I took a small break yesterday and went to play golf with my brother. I shot 91 on a 5,000-yard course, which seems a good score for my age. The key takeaway for me is that I felt as though I hit a lot of good shots, putted well, and managed to recover my form after a string of bad holes. A good day, all in all. Breaking ninety was within my grasp.

I’ve sunk into my medieval self, the world of two sleeps, as described by historian Roger Ekrich in his book At Day’s Close: Night in Times Past. I wake at three, bounce around a bit and go back to sleep. I have to be careful though, sometimes I let the waking get away from me, and simply stay up. But usually, sleep overtakes me and I succumb. Of course, it helps I’m no longer driven by the clock and work. I can sleep until I wake, which is why I’ve mostly given up on my alarm.

My upright rosemary is blooming. That’s a first. I guess it needed time to acclimate to its new home. The are also green buds on three small trees, the persimmon, the Mexican plum, and the sandpaper tree. And the mealy sage a friend gave me last year is coming up from their roots. Lots of growth activity in the gardens and the grounds. At some point next month, I’ll have to get busy myself. But I have a trip coming up, and my resources are dedicated.

It’s odd the things that bring me pleasure these days. Yesterday I completed the restoration of the three lights that adorn our dog run walls. They were bought in the rush of pleasure that comes with decorating a new home. They fell victim to my late wife’s long disease and grief. Bulbs died and broke and the lights went dim. The will to repair was broken as well. For years, I mostly sighed when I looked at the dark lights.

It seems spring is coming to the garden. It might be a tad early. It’s only February. But the bulbs are popping up, the Coral Sage is sprouting, and the grass is green. If I had been a more diligent steward I might have noted these changes through the years, then I could speak with confidence of the early or lateness of things. Unfortunately, all I can do now is speak in generalities.

I voted. Did my civic duty. Although this is just us picking our team. Still voting is a thing I’ve cherished since I cast my first ballot in 1968. I was on active duty in Quantico, Virginia. Mailed my ballot back home. I really pondered over that vote, weighed the pros and cons before making my decision. It felt momentous. It made me feel like an adult.

I love context. And I had a good example of it this morning. I was feeling overwhelmed by the world and wished I could enjoy the bliss of ignorance. Then I wondered about the genesis of the words and looked it up. There was Thomas Gray’s poem, Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College, and right at the end I read this: “…where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.”  It’s a poem on the innocence of youth, and they’re ignorant of what’s to come. I don’t believe Gray intended them as words to live by.

I’m here to testify that a shower head soaked in a solution of citric acid will come clean. All it took was time, hot water and a teaspoon of the main ingredient, which can also be used in canning. Interesting. Household ingredients. I’m adding it to my official house cleaning regimen. Another tool to combat hard water. And now that you have my household tip for the day, I don’t have much else to say.

Walked out onto the porch last night and took a big drink of the dark sky from the big dipper hanging low in the east. I remember as a child finding great pleasure in being able to spot the dipper and its cousin, the little dipper. Then later in life Orion’s belt became the night sky feature with which I was most familiar. Why it drew my eye, I have no idea. All I know is that last night I was happy to be reminded of my childhood.

What I did this weekend. Watched a sunset. Watched it rain. Listened to music. Visited with friends. Thought about my two boys having a weekend together. Slept late. Fed the cats. Made plans. Talked about the missing. Talked about the living. Drove a back road. Simple things. The pleasures of life.

It’s fun to have company, especially when it’s a child, and he brings his guitars, and he helps with a plumbing project because that’s fun, too. So, yesterday evening I managed to get a new faucet installed in the guest bathroom, troubleshoot a toilet issue, learn three new chords, and have a pizza and beer. And speaking of children, earlier in the day I got a call from my daughter who moaned about missing out on the music.

I’m still popular in China, although I have no idea why. I probably could do something about it, but what would be the point. So, far they mostly appear to be reading my blog. I’ve detected no attempts to hack the site, although maybe it’s already done and these hits are simply a means for covering their tracks. If they’re bots, they sure are taking their time, which would seem to defeat the purpose of a bot and why so many. And what are they doing with the data?

I feel fairly centered these days and satisfied, too. Although, it gives me pause sometimes to write about it, because I know I’m running in a universe of people who are reasonably well off, and in some cases better than that. So, I can understand why someone with a harder life might say, of course you’re satisfied. Who wouldn’t be? And I would take their point.

I’ve been having fun with smart light bulbs. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but fun for me. I have them in three rooms now, the living room, the kitchen, and the bedroom. I’ve even created scenes with different colors and brightness’s. They all have names and I call them by voice, there’s normal, evening, morning. Now that I think about it, I could give them fun names, like Skip, or Buster and treat them as pets.me, and I suppose that’s all that matters.

I’ve been talking about self-assessment lately, and I caught a hint yesterday of something I might want to change. Here’s how the story went. I was listening to a friend, and his wife, play music yesterday. During the show I got introduced to some folks across the room who thought I might be a 70s pop star. It seemed funny at the time. But after the show, as I introduced myself for real, one of them mentioned I was singing along on every song.

The most recent phases of my life, the illness and death of a loved one, came to me with preset standards, relatively easy to follow. I brought some of myself to the situations, of course, but choices were limited. This new phase, this passing into my ninth decade, is less clearly defined, because basically it’s just me growing old and deciding how I want to do it.

Yesterday in the early evening, I was driving along listening to my music when Jimmy Lafave came on to sing, Rain Falling Down. A sweet, hard to describe, everything is beautiful feeling came over me, brought on by Jimmy’s voice, the time of day, and the melody. And I knew it was mine to feel because I’d felt it many times before with other songs and other things in other times and other places.

As I prepare to start the journey into my ninth decade, later this year, it will be interesting to see what I take with me. Because you always have to pack for any journey, but especially a personal one. Sometimes it’s things, sometimes it’s people, but the heaviest baggage is usually personal. For instance, after I left active duty in the Navy and decided to attend college in the late 60s, I made the choices to move off (to Florida) and try to be more outgoing. They worked. I got my feet on the ground and gained self-confidence.

One thing you realize about writing every day is just how boring everyday life can be. Not boring in a bad sense, just boring in its ordinariness. I was talking to a friend last night and got the normal what-did-you-do-today question, and I had to think for a moment about what I’d say because the highlight was driving into town for guitar strings and finding the store closed, then eating lunch, which consisted of a hamburger and fries.

I have a catalog of missed opportunities and minor failures. It sits waiting in my brain for those moments when I feel the need to ruminate or brood. Typically, this happens late at night, but I’ve been known to do it while taking a walk or simply sitting in the front room. Usually it involves regret, as in, why did I do that or not do that? It feels like it’s a good time to try and break that habit, because my long life is starting to come back and bite me.