Sticking the landing on a weekend

And so Sunday turns into Sunday evening and, right this very moment, everything feels right in this corner of the world. Thanks to Nicole, who did most of the heavy lifting, the apartment is spotless. There's nothing that needs doing, nothing to make one anxious about sentences starting with "I should have." The laundry is done, the cats and snails are set for the night, the dishes are all, well, if not clean, than at least in the dishwasher. Everything is peaceful and relaxed. 

If Nicole has a super power (and she does; she quite a few), it's an ability to create environments. I think that's why we love the Bunkhouse properties (El Cosmico, Hotel Havana, et. al.),all of which are the commercial embodiment of that sort of ability. We have a small space, so arranging it is trickier than it looks and her sense is flawless. If you squint just right, it can feel more like a resort than a home which ain't a bad way to live.

I made my best loaf of bread tonight which is, well, it's not a big thing, but as I get more comfortable playing with the recipes and the timing, it feels just a little less like good fortune and more like I'm learning the craft when it comes out well. I realize that writing this almost guarantees a brick of a loaf next time out, but have I mentioned Nicole's bread pudding?

I'm still in the middle of reading Nick Harkaway's Angelmaker. It's a big, dense, somewhat untidy book with the occasional side-trip that never quite derails the plot. I'm enjoying it immensely even though I keep getting this weird sense that I've read it before. Anyway, I'm late to the party on this, but Mr. Harkaway is the son of author John Le Carre which explains almost nothing about his books, but it's interesting, isn't it?

I finally finished mixing my "cover" of "We Are The Champions," which has been great fun and a reminder that Freddie Mercury was a stellar composer  and arranger on even the slightest of songs. The best that can be said of my version is that you can tell what it's supposed to be. The fun bit has been getting to play with the ridiculous toys that are available for recording music these days. I'm using a program called Reaper, which is a "digital audio workstation." The learning curve to master it is pretty steep, but it's not at all difficult to get started. I think the final version had something like a dozen track and it's ridiculous that that kind of power is available for less than $60. We live in wondrous times, no?

So, things are good now. They may not be tomorrow; they may not have been yesterday, but right now, right this second, I'm very happy and I can't imagine wanting anything more.

Goodnight all.