Soft

We went to one of the local springs Friday, but the park was closed.  Rather, it was full.  They weren't letting anyone else inside.  I guess that's good, but not for us so much.  So we drove on to the beach.  It was the hottest part of the day by the time we got there, and after the beautiful beaches and clear water of the Breakers, Ili was not so happy.  We sat on our blankets and ate subs and then went into the flat opaque water.  After not to long a stay, we left.

Saturday was a rain day.  We were lazy.  We ran then ate breakfast, had mimosas, and went back to bed.  We got up and watched t.v., then came back to my place where we ate and watched more t.v.  Early, we went for sushi and came home and watched t.v.  And then we went to bed.

Soft.  That is the word my father's generation used to describe certain kinds of people.  I have never been that, but I am in the act of becoming.  It ends today.  I don't want to be "that."  I know which side I want to be on in the game of cowboys and gamers.  I know fitness freaks who are soft.  They can go to box gyms and play body shaper, but they don't like dirty work.  I guess I'd rather be a tree trimmer.

I mean. . . if I can't be an artist or a writer.

I am not one for lying around.  My perfect day is rising early, reading, writing, exercising, eating, drinking, napping, rising, going to the studio and working, eating, working more, reading, and bed.

I know.  There is no tree trimming in there.  Perhaps I'm soft.

Yea, maybe so.