Hi, there, Dear Reader. It’s early afternoon here in my corner of west-central Florida on Sunday, November 21, 2021. It is a gray, somewhat cool late autumn day. Currently, the temperature is 79˚F (26˚F) under cloudy skies. With humidity at 72% and the wind blowing from the east-northeast at 12 MPH (24 KM/H), the feels-like temperature is 79˚F (26˚C). Today’s forecast calls for scattered rain showers and a high of 81˚F (27˚C). Tonight, scattered rain showers will continue. The low will be 65˚F (18˚C).
Last night the Caregiver, her boyfriend, and I tried to watch Die Another Day – the 20th film in the long-lived and still ongoing James Bond series – together. As usual, watching a long film with my two contemporaries is frustrating; Alfred is addicted to nicotine, so he gets nervous if he can’t smoke a cigarette every so often. And because – thankfully – there is a no-smoking-inside-the-house rule, folks that want to puff on coffin nails must do it outside. Alfred can’t hold out without a cigarette for, say, two houurs and 13 minutes, so we either must pause the movie so he can smoke out on the front porch, or he’ll say, “You guys go ahead and watch the movie; I’m going out for a smoke.”
So even though we started watching Die Another Day – Pierce Brosnan’s fourth and final outing as Ian Fleming’s Agent 007 – at a reasonable hour, we finished the movie around 8 PM. I don’t think Alfred even finished watching it; he has a plethora of health issues, so he goes to bed early every night. I’m not a huge fan of Bond 20 ; I don’t hate it, but it’s not as good as, say, From Russia with Love or any of the Daniel Craig Bonds – the last of which, No Time to Die, is on my pre-order queue on Amazon.
Aside from that, I don’t have much to report. I have to take a shower, wash my hair, and get into fresh clothes, but I don’t have anything else on my agenda. It is, after all, Sunday, traditionally a day of rest and relaxation. I’ll read for a while; I have gotten into a bad habit of buying books and then putting them on a To Be Read (TBR) pile in my room. I used to read more when I lived in Miami, but ever since I moved here in April of 2016, I don’t “devour” books as often as I did in days of yore. I “nibble” or “gnaw” them instead.
This doesn’t mean that I don’t finish books. I do. But where it used to take me a week or so to finish a Stephen King or Tom Clancy novel, it now takes me about a month to read an equivalent-sized novel or non-fiction book. Even Star Wars novels, which aren’t exactly complex or deep literary works, take me longer to get through these days. I find it easier to watch movies or spend time online than to read.
Ugh. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.
Anyway, I better go take that shower, so adios, amigos. Stay safe, stay healthy, get vaccinated, and I’ll catch you on the sunny side of things.