Middle-aged men nap.
This is not a about lifestyle choice.
It's about legs that get heavy and a mind that starts to chase itself in circles as afternoons grow warm.
It's about siesta.
Magazines at the ready: Aperture, Esquire, GQ, House & Garden, Playboy, Vanity Fair.
Beer: Sam Adams' Summer Ale.
In earlier years, I heard all the time about "energy" in Hollywood.
I was jealous.
I had that energy and, apart from a passion for playing music, not much focused well enough for getting some good out of it.
Here, however, is far from Hollywood--i.e., an apartment in the low mountains of my state, technically a valley 585 feet above sea level, romantically, a wayside and a summer place.
Anne's back for the week in the central counties with "Snoopy", pictured above; it looks like the sofa is all mine.
Before I had leased this apartment--and not at all expecting the return of the woman and her cat--the landlord had added two charms to it: above the dining room, a ceiling fan, and off the living room, a deck.
I added a long, brown, top-grain leather sofa.
As you know, the deck has been made into a garden.
The fan spins in slowly as befits the chill comforts of a cold beer.
And the sofa is all mine.
Love the photo here, JS. And the text! Sounds like a great lead in . . . . (waiting for the next installment)
Posted by: m cavelli | June 13, 2007 at 07:08 PM