One thing that slightly bothers me about vacations is that I end up on sort of a music fast. I know it’s good for me to get away from my usual routine, but I do miss the practice and listening to the music I love.
I wish I had put some Mozart on my MP3 player before I left. I have been relying heavily on playing and listening to him recently. My stupid stupid MP3 player probably won’t talk to my little netbook I have with me. It makes me crazy how inflexible technology seems to be. But maybe I’m wrong and I will be able to transfer some Mozart (pretty easy to find on the web) to the player. Otherwise I can of course just use my netbook to listen. I think Eileen has been using her netbook to listen to audio books at night.
All these little electronic devices (MP3 players, netbooks, even cell phones) make handy flashlights when you’re in an unfamiliar dark room. Cool.
Right now (5:45 local time…. 8:45 Mich time) I am the only one awake and have managed to conquer the coffee machine and am waiting for coffee. The coffee machine adds another gentle noise to the rumble of trains in the distance. I don’t hear birds yet but of course it is still dark and I am half deaf.
Yesterday our hosts took us all to the beach for the afternoon. We watched the kids get their feet wet in the cold ocean. My grandchildren flew their first kites which came in their Easter baskets. My granddaughter’s kite went up easily in a gust of wind. But the wind died and the rest of the time she and my grandson spent the time madly running around trying to get kites up in the air like you do when there’s no wind.
The adults seemed tired and tense on the drive. My youngest grandchild was car sick on the way back. All in all a typical family afternoon at the beach much enjoyed by this granddad.
Another cool thing about reading books on a netbook is that no light is needed in a darkened bedroom.
I felt in need of a light mystery short story before falling asleep last night and sure enough there was one on my Mobipocket reader called “The thing on the hearth” from The Sleuth of St. James Square by Melville Davison Post. Mr. Post (1869-1930) hails from West Virginia and his largely forgotten writings are available on line. This short story was vaguely reminiscent of a cross between Conan Doyle and Poet. Just what the doctor ordered for last night’s reading. I was in the mood to read more but too sleepy to continue.