Tag: cloudy

Coffee Log, Year 2, Day 71

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Hi.

Coffee: Pike Place from the Apartment Office Lounge; an overcast, semi-rainy day, unconscionable to not walk somewhere, so I walked to the lounge to get coffee; I was alone in the lounge; by the time I left, it started raining; lightly, though; I dried off at home with the help of the coffee; the taste was a mix of middling hotels and bingo games at the senior center.

Today, I swept the porch. It was still green from this spring’s pollen cyclone. We’ve got three chairs, I wiped down one of them but left the others because spiders had taken them over. If I’m being honest, I was squeamish to swat the spiders but also I didn’t want to hurt them.

So started a long day of going in and out of the apartment. I brought three different drinks to the deck. At 1pm, I tried writing. At 2pm, I tried reading. At 3 I talked to a friend, and at 4 I was just there because I couldn’t figure out where else to be. I was feeling restless. I’ve been feeling restless for a long time.

By six, I’d seen enough from the porch so I took a drive. The clouds had cleared enough to show some bright spots but they hung around the edges like a hopeless lover. There were sun showers and lots of people out walking their dogs. By the end of the trip, I’d crossed Cary. I was all the way in Morrisville. Coming back, the sky was just as complicated.

Currently Reading: Kitchen Confidential, Anthony Bourdain

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We are like roses that have never bothered to bloom when we should have bloomed and it is as if the sun has become disgusted with waiting

Charles Bukowski


Coffee Log, Day 336

garethlivesayLeave a comment

Hi.

Coffee: Peach Black Tea, Unknown brand; I didn’t have time to make coffee this morning so I grabbed the first thing with caffeine; this is old tea, a gift of six pouches in a ziplock bag; I’d had most of them at the time but a few were left; it was mellow and sweet; it reminded me of the person who gave it to me; she had eager hands, the kind that were always a little stiff, ready to start the next project.

It was the sort of day where the wind bends in to sniff you. Not quite winter, not quite spring, not quite anything other than ‘not-summer.’ The clouds had stirred themselves up to a tizzy. It didn’t rain, but it often looked like it might.

I took a late lunch at a Subway. It was one of those places you find squirreled in the corner of a Wal-Mart. The guy at the counter was already helping someone, so I stood around watching the people at the counters, the dead-bored greeters, the hustle and bustle of the store. Blue and white are great colors for the big suck of a department store. Cold and desolate, a Canadian tundra.

When it was my turn, I made small talk with the Subway chef. He made me a good sub. We talked about the warm weather and banking and after I paid I shook his hand. His wife was behind the register doing taxes.

Never underestimate the power of a cloudy day. With no sun to distract you, it’s easier to notice the details.

Novel Count: 18,430

Currently Reading: Killing Commendatore, Haruki Murakami

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I remember staying to look at it for a long time, as one would linger within reach of a consoling whisper. The sky was pearly grey. It was one of those overcast days so rare in the tropics, in which memories crowd upon one, memories of other shores, of other faces.

Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim


Coffee Log, Day 275

garethlivesayLeave a comment

Hi.

Coffee: French Roast, Trader Joe’s Brand; I found a reusable filter in the cabinet. It’s not as fine as the paper. I’m drinking Turkish coffee – muddy, the grounds brewed in – except without the better taste.

It’s Saturday. I’m working. I picked up a shift because I figured I don’t have plans with my family and this is Thanksgiving Weekend, other people might. Can’t say I’m looking forward to it, but what better have I got to do?

It’s dreary. Wet. Rain. Clouded over. My kind of day. I don’t know how to think when it’s sunny. There’s a pressure to perform, like that beautiful man or woman you got in bed with without knowing their last name. Nah, the clouds suit me just fine.

Sometimes, when it’s almost December, I feel like I’ve got an answer for the year. It’s never a good one. Rarely bad, either. Instead, it’s just a feeling of being spent. Put the batteries in the Energizer bunny and he marches a full circle. Here we are again.

At least for now the whole world looks blue. The sun’s barely up. The trees are bent by last night’s rain. It’s brutal cold and I wonder how the birds are doing. I’ve always wondered how birds stand the cold winter winds, perched in a bush or tree. Not all of them have the luxury of flying south. But they do manage. And I guess that’s the best hope for any of us: birds in December, shivering for Spring.

Novel Count: 12,062 words

Currently Reading: Autumn, Ali Smith; Cherry, Nico Walker

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Ignoring me, she looked up at the pigeons sitting on the windowsills, which this year were so caked with droppings that they looked quite disgusting. The pigeons were a big problem at Wolfsegg; year in, year out, they sat on the buildings in their hundreds and ruined them with their droppings.

Thomas Bernhard, Extinction