The first item on my list of "Places I Have Lived" is Riverview Court, outside Annapolis, MD. That, I think, is Kay sitting in front, reading the newspaper. It was a strange little old house, perfectly in keeping with the post-war ambiance of the times. We lived there until I was six, Lisa was five, and Gordon, I believe, was on the way. Don was assigned to the Chesapeake Bay Naval Chemical Station, from which I remember him coming home in the evening in the Studebaker we had then - I can remember standing in the upstairs veranda, watching him park in the turning circle off the left of the photograph. In later years, we rented a smaller house, just down the hill, which became Don's "Studio," more photographic than writing, in those days, but just as dark as his places always were and with that characteristic smell that was a combination of him and chemicals.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
110526 Thu 10:36
A restless night of anxiety dreams: being summoned into the office of the Apotek and told, in the most kindly polite way, that they could no longer fill my prescriptions without full payment. This is actually not far from likelihood, although it will probably be handled much more clumsily. Instead of arguing for my Residency, which all acknowledge I should have, they just retreat into the rule-book (and cover their own butts: human nature). But I told myself I would not write about money in my journal, and I won't, even when it haunts my dreams. Sleeping is such a mixed blessing anyway when you reach my age; every fourth or fifth night I sleep like an adolescent and wake refreshed. Otherwise it's like bobbing up and down on a sea that refuses to engulf me. That's when the dreams come, and the stomach-aches, and the leg cramps. But it's rarely bad enough to simply give up. I always still manage to extract some rejuvenation from the six hours; changing position and drifting off for another hour. It's probably just as well I don't have a bed-mate, although maybe such a one would provide the security I need to sleep soundly.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
110525 Wed 19:13
I've sent the first entry to HUGOnline, announcing my intention to make it my online journal. Despite the usual disclaimers, I'm still a little leery of being too completely myself in public, if for no other reason than it's apt to be deadly: self-involved, whiney, and all the other criticisms I generally heap on my journal-keeping. Now the "Sessions" tabs in this application make a lot more sense! Things which are just too ghastly or irrelevant or this kind of meta-commentary can be isolated from that which is published. Besides, I don't even know if it's possible to write completely publicly. While it is good discipline to always bear an audience in mind, it can also be so inhibiting as to deform one's written personality. As always, it's a balancing act. Now that I think about it, though, it is kind of liberating to not have to think in terms of graphics, just words.
110525 Wed 18:53
Things are changing and, without even thinking about it much, I've been changing with them. Tumblr has become the easiest way to capture images and quotes and, for months now, I've found myself using it in lieu of Blogger, my original web address, which has languished. Thus, adapting with the times, I've decided to make HUGOnline much more a written blog, a kind of online journal, while switching my short attention span to HUGObserver. Insofar as these entries will be generated directly from my computer journal ("viJournal," is the software, for those interested) it is apt to become much more personal; so much so that I'm breaking this automatic link with Facebook (but retaining the one with Tumblr). In a way, I guess, I'm giving fair warning: while I don't intend to indulge in excess profanity or anything overtly libelous, neither am I going to self-censor much beyond general editorial correctness. So, if you'd rather not know the personal details of my life (apt to be pretty boring, in any case) or share my angst, now is the time to trash this bookmark.
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