Spring Bloodroot Moon
Surely walking past the Willard, the Dept. of Treasury, the Whitehouse and out to the Lincoln Monument, then back is enough. Isn’t it? How many hours at the museum or paintings per visit is enough? Does eating in the cafeteria count?
Now I wouldn’t raise these questions at all if I felt I’d done enough, so you can tell how I’m doing by my own barometer, but I question my barometer. At home I work most in the morning, usually a couple of hours in the afternoon after the nap, too. That seems fine to me. Most of the time.
(Me wondering about enough.)
On vacation though I get up in the morning around 8, my usual time, wander to some breakfast place, then head off for sightseeing that counts. However, about 1 pm or so, my everyday nap habit reels me in, back to the hotel. After a nap it’s the middle of the afternoon and doing much else just doesn’t happen until dinner. Which is the big event, then I’m done, not being a drinker, dancer, night outer type.
Anyhow, it’s a very bourgeoisie problem. Or, it’s not exactly a problem so much as it a perception of value for the dollar. How much more Babbity can you get?
Ah, finally I’ve written long enough to get to the nub of it. After my trips the memories and thoughts enjoined during them always enrich my life. Always. So, it’s not the sights seen, nor the miles walked that matter. It’s the quality of the time overall and it has been this time and will be next time, wonderful. All that thinking on power that I haven’t written about yet. But I will.
This is a guy, just some guy, in front of the D.C. city hall getting made up for a press conference on the front steps. A very D.C. moment.