If I eat this tiramisu in six very small pieces, it adds up to fewer calories than if I eat the whole thing all at once. My doctor said so, and she’s a doctor of cartography at NGIS, so she would know.
I’m still vaguely thinking of writing a memoir. Right now, most of what seems to be coming to me is memoir-y. I don’t know if that’s because I actually should write a memoir, or just because I’m still processing things right now. Maybe a little of both.
Today was a long day. There seem to be a lot of those, right now. I woke up about an hour and a half before my alarm clock was supposed to go off. Going back to sleep never really seems to happen. Went to work. Looked at my schedule, and for once, I’m getting a little more time off than I expected. And in a usable configuration.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the time.
There’s a lake I like in the northern part of the state. I might take an old camera and go. I have my camera. I have a K-1000 that I bought used years and years ago, and I have my grandfather’s old camera. (A Signet 35). Which I’ve never done anything with, but this might be the time. The Signet has a couple of lenses in teeny, tiny little jar things. Absolutely fascinating.
Somewhere… deep in the dark recesses of the same Cabinet of Things I Wasn’t Allowed to Touch When I Was a Child, is my grandfather’s movie camera, too. I don’t know where I’d even look to find film for that. We’ll say that’s a different weekend.
And the lake happens to be right next to a state park with an atl-atl range. I mostly can’t hit anything (targets, trees, the broadside of a barn) but it still might not be a bad time to go throw around some darts. It’s still cool enough that being outdoors and on dry land wouldn’t be horribly uncomfortable.
Apparently, atl-atl is now a “shooting sport” (no, I don’t understand it, either.) and there’s a whole pavilion of shooting sports ranging from the stone age right on up.