Due to the gout that started off the week, I did next to nothing with the last 168 hours. I mowed the lawn, taking a two hour break half way through to let my knee settle down. I practiced welding -- something I can do sitting down. And I worked on a painting -- also sitting down. The jury is still out on the painting. I like the idea but the execution is iffy -- I'm trying something different (for me) -- painting and then over-painting with a semi-transparent layer.
A nice thing about painting is that it's so easy to make the mistakes disappear. And if it's really bad a pair of scissors or a sharp knife can make it gone forever. (I've only done that a few times -- generally I know enough to stop before things get that bad).
Yesterday dw returned from Wisconsin. She said the trip was uneventful except for a tour of the Epic business complex. Epic writes assorted software for medical purposes (billing, charting, etc.) and dw is in the process of learning the system. Learning computers isn't dw's favorite thing but she was impressed with the Epic campus.
The Sultan Hookah Lounge sits on a triangular lot at the east "gateway" to St. Johns. It's a curious location, with parking on site and easy street parking but nothing seems to last. I don't remember what the first business was, but for several years it was a BBQ place -- quite good BBQ but they had weird hours -- closing at 4p.m. -- shutting out the last minute dinner crowd. Then it was a coffee shop. Also with odd hours. And now it's a hookah lounge. A hookah lounge and an oxygen bar. The theory, I suppose, is that after inhaling a ton of flavored tobacco (as an ex-smoker I consider flavored tobacco to be a deep insult to one of the great -- if fatally flawed -- pleasures of life: smoking) -- you can then suck on some sort of scented oxygen and everything will be all better. I'm guessing the enterprise is aimed at the now-wow-and-today crowd and not an aging geezer.
My book for the week: "Fifty Miles from Tomorrow" (Hensley) -- an autobiography. The author started his life as a traditional Alaskan Inupiaq and became (among other things) a lobbyist for native America rights. It's an interesting read. DA
A nice thing about painting is that it's so easy to make the mistakes disappear. And if it's really bad a pair of scissors or a sharp knife can make it gone forever. (I've only done that a few times -- generally I know enough to stop before things get that bad).
Yesterday dw returned from Wisconsin. She said the trip was uneventful except for a tour of the Epic business complex. Epic writes assorted software for medical purposes (billing, charting, etc.) and dw is in the process of learning the system. Learning computers isn't dw's favorite thing but she was impressed with the Epic campus.
The Sultan Hookah Lounge sits on a triangular lot at the east "gateway" to St. Johns. It's a curious location, with parking on site and easy street parking but nothing seems to last. I don't remember what the first business was, but for several years it was a BBQ place -- quite good BBQ but they had weird hours -- closing at 4p.m. -- shutting out the last minute dinner crowd. Then it was a coffee shop. Also with odd hours. And now it's a hookah lounge. A hookah lounge and an oxygen bar. The theory, I suppose, is that after inhaling a ton of flavored tobacco (as an ex-smoker I consider flavored tobacco to be a deep insult to one of the great -- if fatally flawed -- pleasures of life: smoking) -- you can then suck on some sort of scented oxygen and everything will be all better. I'm guessing the enterprise is aimed at the now-wow-and-today crowd and not an aging geezer.
My book for the week: "Fifty Miles from Tomorrow" (Hensley) -- an autobiography. The author started his life as a traditional Alaskan Inupiaq and became (among other things) a lobbyist for native America rights. It's an interesting read. DA
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