Friday, May 21, 2021

 Thursday, May 20, 2021--I’m at CPC with a raspberry scone, coffee, and Hunter S. Thompson, who Joe Capistrant disdains.  When I walked in here at 10:30 a.m. the place was quiet.  Heidi Hartle and Lori K were sitting on the bench seats but moved over to the soft seats to join a handsome, well dressed man with cutoffs and white sneakers with black, gray, and blue trim.   Slightly graying, middle-aged man with a swell haircut.  He talked, they listened for an hour or so.  Lori occasionally asked questions and chuckled. 

Sometimes, in between sips of coffee, I closed my eyes and listened to the room full of chatter, the bawling of a toddler, soft rock on the sound system. By 11 a.m. the place packed and noisy.

Wednesday, May 19, 2021

 Wednesday, May 19, 2021 70 degrees—While walking through Morehouse Park on my way to Central Park Coffee this morning, a dog ran from a picnic shelter and headed straight for me, while behind it was a middle-aged woman shouting its name.  I did what someone taught me to do, hold out my hand to let the dog smell it.  Dogs smell fear.  The dog sniffed my finger, then wagged its tail in a friendly manner.  The woman came up to us and snapped a leash on the dog’s collar, and returned to the shelter.  Bedding on a shelter table suggested she and the dog spent the night there.

Tuesday, May 18, 2021

Tuesday, May 18, 2021

 This morning after Gibson’s 8:08 call and breakfast, I walked down the Straight River trail  to Central Park Coffee for a blueberry scone and coffee in the alley.  Read more Hunter S. Thompson which seems to be getting better the more I read.  I wonder if Gibson would like it. Just as my walk back to Lake Kohlmier ended, a light rain began and I peed beside the car.  Both the walk to and back from downtown went well, a mile in 19 minutes. 

Friday, April 23, 2021

 Friday April 23, 2021   50 degrees—One of my odder days.  Up at 6:40 a,m,, had my usual breakfast, made a month’s batch of steel-cut oats, then went online to write a portion of today’s diary entry when everything went crazy.  Lost all of this year’s diary entries and most of last year’s.  While trying to recover the entries, the computer produced machine-gun-like sounds and froze.  Unable to shut down, I pulled the power cord out, then rebooted, crossed my fingers, 

Dec. 28, 2007

Dec. 28, 2007
In the waning years of WW II, we were living in Rockville Center, Long Island, I was about 12 and dad was dying of a brain tumor. Mom said NYC was no place for a widow to bring up a child, so she packed us up and we took a train to her childhood home in Detroit Lakes Minnesota. That's where she met and married this widower. He was a clothing salesman and outdoorsman.

Dec. 27, 2007

Dec. 27, 2007
Hamburger at Petes Place

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