CLEVELAND CIRCLE

Lovely and sweet Dusty in his Tiny House which is really a box truck that he's going to drive to somewhere that has more solar energy

Inside the Box Truck is a king sized bed that folds down, air conditioning, running water and all Dusty's tools

New counter Dusty made for me. Was supposed to take 3-4 days, took 13,  6 rolls of toilet paper and almost 2 cases of Spindrifts

It turns out Dusty is an apt name, I discovered, when trying to piece my place back together by doing a bit of cleaning, which turns out to have been ill-advised, perhaps because I never developed the proper muscles. But the cleaners weren't coming for a couple of weeks so I was up against the wall. There was a moments deliberation about acquiring a mop, but my knowledge I'd never mop again and loathing of extra things motivated me to instead tie an old hand towel around the broom. It was a sloppy job, but then I was thinking only of the cleaners disappointment should they show up and find there was nothing for them to do.  Finishing up this morning, I tweaked my back in a way that hasn't happened in years, so had to cancel much of the day and slow down.

Knowing that during a spasm, walking is more comfortable than standing or sitting, I took off for the BC Reservoir in a more relaxed state of mind than usual, knowing there was nothing waiting for me after. It turns out that it was exactly the state I've been craving, and my mind had the luxury of wandering off vigorously and in many directions.  So today's post is a welcome into my head, mixed and varied.

My favorite view of the Reservoir

Path at the Reservoir
 
People use the Reservoir for different reasons. In the spring, the BC and BU running teams practice there, which is inspiring and fun, but mostly it's civilians; runners and walkers with and without babies, dogs, grandparents, kids on bikes, backpacks filled with ice, cats on leashes and fishing rods. The bulk are slow runners, which was how I began circling that odd-shaped body of water 30 years ago, back when there was a fence around it that kept us all outside. These days, my visits aren't at all about exercise, rather the opportunity to space out, admire the changing flora, watch the goslings grow to geese and enjoy the early spring swallows that swoop around.  For the most part, I walk counter-clockwise, walking at a snails pace. Here's a question I need answering: Why is is that about 80% of the time, a runner who comes from behind to pass, comes within 2 inches, rather than giving both of us a wider berth, the path is 10 feet wide. There must be a reason, I just don't know what it is. It was sort of irritating at first, especially in the heat, but not it's just strange. 

Here were some of my thoughts today:

Why do/did Anna Wintour and Karl Lagerfeld wear sunglasses inside? Does it look cool? In my opinion, it looks weird. Is it because they are surrounded by people they don't like and having the glasses on allows them to smile only with their mouth while their eyes were rolling?

Should I  rush my walk so that I can be introduced to a 30 year old woman who is married to a 70 year old man? While I am curious to meet her, and hopeful that it will remove a recurring imagine of something grey and wrinkly that keeps popping into my head, I decided it was not a day to rush. Hopefully there'll be another opportunity. 

Jonas Vingegaard and Tadej Pogačar, just finished watching the first two seasons of Tour de France and think of their child-like, especially Jonas', faces and relative humility compared to other professional athletes. And the absurd risk and extreme push they give their bodies. Knew nothing about it before I watched, huh, didn't realize it's going on now, need to get up to speed.  Wow, blown away by them.

What's gone wrong with my serve? How can I can play better with people who don't generate power? Do I have to play scrappy tennis to win and is it worth it, eliminating the joy of a good, hard, backhand that might land in the bottom of the net or next court? I have been hitting singles more recently and find it's been good for doubles footwork. Footwork? That might be something of an overstatement, as playing on grass makes me sure there are suction cups on the bottom of my sneakers, and my favorite term is "I should have had that".

Many of us are regularly fighting injuries. Even Deb is wearing something on her arm, as is Laura, both of whom I think of as made of rock. At first I wrote that "aside from this back tweak, I'm fine", but then I remembered my foot, which while it's not bothering me, it's because I'm careful, and then my discomfort in humidity, is not getting better, making me me dizzy. Oh well, hard to avoid, And tennis is the best sport for aging? Well, I suppose it's better than geriatric boxing. As Philip's father used to say "Getting old is better than the alternative"

Ice and Aperol are often called for to fix things

No tennis? Punt!

When we were changing sides on the court the other day, a friend told us about a graduation she went to at Emerson in 2024. The speaker, the dean, Kim McLarin, was addressing our tendency to be self-righteous at times, suggesting we adopt the phrase and outlook:  "I don't know; I'm not certain; I could be wrong".  World Peace could be ours. 

What are the chances, of, when watching only an hour of Wimbledon, I see an English guy I knew as a kid sitting in the audience? How funny. Siniakova was playing mixed with a Dutch guy, I wondered if they were together, they were so cutely flirty with each other. But also very good, beating the sixth seeds.

Jenn and I are trying to turn Mary into an influencer,  which she is interested in becoming for the sole purpose of getting a free case of Cavit, her favorite white wine. There's enough content in Mary to keep this going for more years than we'll be on this earth. The challenge is that while she's comfortable complaining bitterly about the lack of results so far, getting her involved has been a bit of a challenge. When we tried to schedule a time, she at first said she'd be there, but then texted that she's already on Only Fans and Feet Finder, and was busy watching Sabalenka. Will someone please explain to her? ​

Gold, apparently

A Star Is Born

Instagram coming soon, as long as the subject cooperates

Hostas

Not a lover of hostas, in my current living situation, they are the answer to the low maintenance shade requirements outside my apartment. They make me think about the importance of context, because sculpturally, they are beautiful, we just don't see them alone too often. 

I entertain myself every once in a while by looking at the AI photos some website reproduced for me to use for a proposal that required a certain style I wasn't capable of creating on my own. 

Nat calls this Therapist from Central Mass. My, what a big head you have.

Not exactly my style

When has. my hair ever been that tidy? Note the bindi

Over and out from AI land. Here's how AI suggested I close out this post, worthy of wearing sunglasses inside to hide the rolling eyes. 

​Until the next point, the next match, and the next memory shared with friends.