to another world

Fifty-seven degrees F. out, pleasant after my hottest summer in memory, when at this predawn hour I would open the door to an oven’s blast of headache hot. But this is nice, should be good news for this morning’s walk. 

Square of dark chocolate melting on tongue with a sip of hot black. On the bookshelf beside my riser chair is a small stash of several chocolates, as carefully rationed out as my parents used gasoline during WW2. 

Frustrated yesterday with losing the cursor on my MacBook desktop yet one more time again, I googled “can I make the cursor larger” and sure enough, instruction came up. Click the apple, click system preferences, click accessibility, and slide the cursor size bar to the right. I slid it all the way to large and now the cursor is so large it’s obnoxious, but I don’t expect to lose it again.

Went for my six-monthly dermatology  appointment yesterday afternoon, got zapped on both ears, both arms, a cheek spot or two, and carpet bombed on the forehead and head. Listened to Christmas songs at the doctor's office, driving home after, listened to beach radio, first "me and julio in the schoolyard," then "sail away with me, to another world." Even growing up here and days at the beach, I was never a sun worshiper but there were several terrible sunburns over the early years, so I reckon my skin is paying the price now. Though I do recall that day in May 1953 when, having just finished the last of my senior year final exams, leaving Bay High in a friend's car and sneaking off to the jetties to lie in the sun against a huge jetties rock all the rest of the day. I remember it well. Maurice Chevalier, sing us a love song. Or you, Frank Sinatra, "When I was seventeen, it was a very good year ... 

Mind wanders, doesn’t it, mine drives me crazy. Sitting down to blog, one never knows where mind and fingers might wander off to.

Thos+