Chris Walsh (chris_walsh) wrote,
Chris Walsh

What's good

Things that should work, things that recently worked, weren't working this morning. Not how I wanted to start the day. I dwelled on this. (You know I can dwell.) I was doing the :-/ expression.

I did what I could to get past this, to (I hoped) get over this. So I did stuff. I walked, first stopping at the grade school about eight blocks from the house to drop off my most recent collection of Box Tops For Education. Then I walked farther and got to the Woodstock library. Certain online things are easier to do on a desktop than on a tablet, and I did some of those things.

Then dinner: pasta with sausage added to the sauce. Makes it more filling, and more satisfying, especially if you like sausage.

And I made sure to think of other things that were working, that were good, that I could feel nice about. Here's a partial list:

• I'm reading Douglas Adams essays, from the collection The Salmon of Doubt. Some of that I read while walking, as I like to do. His perspective and phrasing are soothing to me.

• The Moon is back in the sky; tonight I caught the sliver of a crescent.

• We currently get good views early at night of Mars.

• I've been getting fed okay.

• I can borrow several David Bowie albums digitally via Hoopla. (I just borrowed Hunky Dory, which has "Changes" and "Life On Mars?")

• I can still think, and write, and be clever.

There. A little more affirmed.
Tags: peregrinations

  • A journey in prose: "The Grapes of Wrath"

    Reading John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath, a story of my country having a very hard time, while my country (and most of the world) is having a…

  • I did it!

    Okay, this is a fine example of a small victory, but we find what victories we can in this pandemic time... In the early Nineties, I read and was…

  • The pleasures of a big story

    In, I think, 1991, I first read Frank Herbert's Dune. I do know I read it on one of my trips to Oregon (I still lived in Virginia at the time), but…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.