At lunch, I realized, then said to Joyce, "I forgot to blog today."
"You've had a lot to do today," she said--as always, trying to make me feel better about a failure. This, as you can well imagine, keeps her very busy.
Yeah, sure, I had things to do. I was at the coffee shop by 7:45. By then I'd already caught up on my email (such as it is these Days of Retirement), done my online banking, posted my Daily Doggerel on its separate blog, checked out Facebook.
At the coffee shop I read the New York Times and about 70 pages of a novel I'm preparing to review for the Cleveland Plain Dealer. I left a little sooner than usual: I had to drive the Prius over to the dealer in Kent for the 40,000-mile inspection. While I waited, I worked on the text of a speech I'm giving in late October and also wrote one of my semi-weekly letters to my mom--these two tasks accomplished via iPad and OneDrive.
Home, I had a few more things to deal with, including pasting some photos into Mom's letter before preparing the envelope for the carrier,who usually comes just before noon. A couple of books showed up first via UPS: a new book about slavery and capitalism (which I'd ordered for Joyce) and a new post-apocalyptic novel I'd read about in the Times last Sunday, a story that involves a group of actors performing Shakespeare in the ruins. Sounded like my kind of book.
Then the mail came. A couple of other things to deal with.
And then came those twelve cuckoos from my great-grandfather's clock that hangs at the foot of the stairs, right by the front door. That clock has hung in my house since I was in 7th grade or so.
And sitting down with Joyce and realizing I'd not written a blog post for today.
Oh well, there's always tomorrow.
Oh, and by the way ... The postal carrier neglected to pick up Mom's letter, so I dropped it in a mailbox on my way over to Starbucks, where I now sit, where I now type and post this installment of DawnReader.