|My favourite restaurant right now, is Chambar. It's great|
cooking, extremely well presented and its served by staff
who are warm, casual and not pretentious or intrusive.
|This is where I plan to take myself for lunch today. These|
are the desserts my friend Tim and I had on Friday.
This is post #999 on this blog. It is the last of, perhaps, twenty blogs I have created for myself or for friends with projects.
I was active in the early days of blogging. One of my earliest blogs predicted Tumblr in that is was nothing but images. I have no idea why, but I trashed it and now I regret that but I have a life-long tradition of destroying or giving away my creative work. Once in the history of that blog I became a huge hit in Poland. For a while, I was getting over ten thousand visits a month, mostly from Poland.
This blog is more like the diaries I kept that were part writing, part scrapbook. Originally, it was going to be a place exclusively for recoding the events occurring on my walks but it has became a practical tool.
By recording things like my recent love burst over E. O. White, when I am out and about with friends and talk about him, this blog that I can access from my phone allows me to share White’s fabulous quotations word-for-word. And, I can share photos of things I have seen or made from this digital personal archive.
It has never been popular in Poland. Neither is it popular here, but a few friends read it and because of their practices, each post feels like a postcard of this life’s voyage.
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The worst part of yesterday was a nasty irritant in my eye. Suddenly, I would get this horrid feeling like a grain of sand was in my eye and it would shut. I spend forever rubbing it (and I know that is stupid), rinsing it and doing what my mother taught me—pulling my upper eyelid down over my lower one. Nothing worked.
I used a magnifying glass and the mirror to look for the cause but I could not find anything. Soon, my eye and the skin around it was red and puffy. Let me tell you, I was in poor spirits with horrid sciatica and one eye closed.
Desperate, I drew a hot bath. (Where does that verb come from for bathing?) Heat is not supposed to be good for sciatica, but heat overwhelms. In the bath, all I feel is beautiful heat and I savor it. And on a whim, I sank my head under the water and opened my eyes and I looked left and right and I pulled my eyelids away from my eyes and when I got out all was much, much better.
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It’s Sunday morning and I am spending the entire Thanksgiving weekend alone. But today has started very well because my sciatica is calm and when I went to the window at 5:30, I could see stars so I will walk the wall today. It is appropriate that I do as it is my form of divine worship and I will do it at daybreak to beat the hordes.
My plan is to come back here, change into some nice clothes and take myself out for lunch to a nice restaurant. I think of doing this almost every day I spend alone. But I never do it.
Dining alone is tricky; with no one to talk to, time passes quickly. For me, the trick is to have something as delicious as the food to read so that the meal unrolls slowly.
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