It is 5:53 AM. I woke up much earlier but was pretty exhausted from the day before so went back to sleep and finally got out of bed at five. Whenever I sleep longer than I should my dreams become progressively more strange. I wonder if there is a scientific reason for that?
Yesterday I got out of bed at 2:30 AM and had a very productive morning. I first drank wheatgrass, did the dishes, meditated, completed my post about 2016 and then it was off to New Year’s training on the beach.
I just took the tour in VR and it is fantastic!!! I’ve decided that before I die I need to have a drink – nice scotch, elegant burbon, fancy wine, whatever – in the Red Room on a cold winter’s evening with a blazing fire in the fireplace. The President, myself and some other heads of state will discuss geopolitics and history starting with World War One until late into the night. This is my goal and it starts today.
The Red Room. If this isn’t a FANTASTIC room to have a fancy drink in then I don’t know what is!
It is now 4:07 AM on January 14th, 2017. The holidays of Christmas and New Year are distant memories that seem to have happened long, long ago.
The time off was not relaxing due to two little boys. Yes, we had fun and yes we made great memories but with two little ones there is no free time, no relaxation. I’ll enjoy the holiday breaks more when they are older and I have time to do the things I want to do: relax, read, take a nap, watch an adult movie, mountain bike, hike, and many other things. But at the same time I will also miss the kid versions of them so it becomes a complete catch-22.
Each pine at dusk
lodges the bird
of its voice
perpendicular and still
indifferent to history
tearless as stone
in tremulous excitement
the ancient story
of the sun going down.
- John Berger from “And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief as Photos”
New Yorker – Postscript: John Berger, 1926 – 2017: http://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/postscript-john-berger-1926-2017
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(54 words, estimated 13 secs reading time)
This evening I was inspecting the various books on my bookshelf and came across some very old volumes I had picked up from somewhere and somewhen. The first book was in Latin; I skimmed a few paragraphs and then put it back since I currently do not read Latin.
The next book I picked up is called The Third School Reader and through the magic of Google I see they’ve scanned it in. It was written by S.G. Goodrich and published by Morton and Griswold in Louisville, Kentucky in 1847.