Saturday

I slept for about four hours straight, but when I woke up at three for a bathroom run and to switch to the big room, I realized that I would not be falling back to sleep anytime soon. I let the cats inside to eat, and I resumed reading Mallon's Reagan novel. I had an early breakfast at around five (red velvet cake and tea), and at around six, I tried to sleep. It didn't come easy now either, and, at best, I dozed a little for the next couple of hours. After that, I think I got a good hour of sleep to help salvage the day. I am now set for an early lunch.

Incidentally, autumn has kicked in another gear. The mercury dipped into the sixties. I shut off the ceiling fan and put on my t-shirt. And here we are at eleven o'clock and the indoor temperature is still in the seventies, and I still have my shirt on, though the ceiling fan is back on (I'm not ready to switch the fan to winter-mode).

Aquarium

Pop gets out of bed and comes into the kitchen to make his morning coffee, and he starts singing, "Walking with my baby!" simply repeating that phrase over and over with greater enthusiasm and volume. Instead of shutting the door and putting on the fan, I turn on the Smart-TV, go to YouTube, and put on my aquarium video.

He comes to look at the video and talks about seeing one at the doctor's. An aquarium. He expresses some appreciation for them, but he says they take a lot of work. I suppose he has forgotten that I once had a strong interest to get one, back in the early 90s, the Bay Horse years. We even bought a modest, somewhat small one, but it was cracked. I manage to hold my tongue and keep from reminding him. What's the point? Besides, even if he felt a whim to get one, I no longer have the heart to want to learn how to put it together and maintain it. It strike me as enough of a challenge to maintain what we have going.

Those Crazy 80s

Finished watching "Kill the Messenger" about the reporter who broke the story of the CIA being implicated in the American drug trade to fund the Contras in Nicaragua under the Reagan administration. When I was watching it this morning, with my early bird breakfast, it took a moment for me to appreciate how nicely it plashes with the Reagan novel "Finale", as I was also reading a chapter on the illicit funding of the Contras. It was feeling like one story, as each reinforced the other, making for a richer experience. One ought to see about doing that more often, on purpose, coordinating the reading and the videos.

Pop's Recliner

I just noticed that one of the cats, probably Coco, vomited on Pop's big recliner-chair. I'm glad I caught it, because I suspect his rude discovery of the mess would have outstripped his fondness for the cats. I am pretty sure it still has that 'new chair' feel about it in his mind, even though we have had it - what? - at least a couple of years?

Post-Nap

Another good nap. Over thirty minutes. Considering my three o'clock morning, this is not so surprising, but I appreciate it nonetheless. The air is appreciably warmer and muggy, and I put on the air-conditioner. I also realize, because of my odd morning, I did not get around to the Times. So, I'll take care of that now.

Date

When I saw Pop's car parked at the curb, I first thought he might be having a guest. I was about to ask, when I remembered that he was looking forward to edging the lawn tomorrow. Then I figured he wanted the car out of the way. However, I was right the first time. Lori pulled into the driveway.

Tonight is a little different for them. It's more like a real date. They are going to a movie. He says they will come back to watch TV.

I thought his evening shower was a little odd, if he was intending to do lawn work tomorrow, especially since you could smell that heavy soapy scent all the way from the hallway.

I guess this leaves Mr. Saturday Night the opportunity to spend some more quality time with "Finale". Incidentally, now that I am about midway into the novel, I have become less enthusiastic. Mr. Mallon seems to take an odd angle to his historical fiction. A lot of light is shined on the personalities and historic events of the era, but the reader is left to look at them from an oblique angle. Though, the Christopher Hitchens material may save it. Mallon seems to catch Hitch's voice wonderfully. One can wish that he just went ahead and wrote a Hitchens novel rather than a Reagan novel. We don't even see much of Reagan. We actually see more of Hitchens. Well, whatever. I am still enjoying the read. My only debate is whether this is something I am going to care to reread in the future, or is it just a hot one night stand?

Food

I guess H.E.B.'s beef fritters aren't going to work. I was hoping to find an alternative to chicken, but the search goes on.

Reading Life

I have been feeling a little doubtful about spending so much time on Mallon's novel. I feel as though I have lost myself to the lotus eaters. I know when it comes to this sort of thing, lately, my response has been, "So what?" So long as I am enjoying myself. But I still feel a little more ambition than to spend most of my days reading pop-fiction. I will probably go back to the idea of using my weekends for fiction, as a way to set a reasonable limit on it.

Of course, today is only Saturday, so that there shouldn't be a problem with continuing with my novel tomorrow, but I have already spent four days with it. I feel ready to take up Lincoln tomorrow, as though it were Monday.

I think I gave up on the weekend idea when I was falling in love all over again with "Magic Mountain", as I did not want my time with it limited by some arbitrary, self-set rule. However, there is no reason why I cannot enjoy the mountain for my evening reading during the weekdays, as, indeed, I am enjoying it now this evening, having put Mallon's novel aside already. I know my way around the mountain well enough that I can dip anywhere in the book, even for just a few paragraphs, and feel as though I have enjoyed a therapeutic respite from my life and its disappointments.