In Which the White Car Is Not the Desired Object
In which I maybe reconcile myself to Daylight Saving Time

Reviewing the History

Saturday morning, Charlie woke at 4am, waited (fully alert) till I said 'walk?' at 5.45 and out we went. The bits of remaining snow on the sidewalk were already melting into slush.

We came home, I went out running, Charlie was out on the blue couch on my return.

He called groggily for a local bike ride when he awoke at 9am. Charlie has been hesitant biking these day and has been cutting the rides short. This time, Jim got him to improvise a bit so they still got in plenty of miles.

Then we went to the barber for a haircut and shave, and it was good and non-eventful.

Then, an unintended tour de Jersey, the northerner part, Charlie of late having a thing for chow fun noodles.

A solid two and a half hour nap followed after which we thought a groggy Charlie might prefer to ride local. Jim had been talking about heading towards Bayonne for a Hudson and we thought we could do it Sunday -- then Charlie said Bayonne and it was good to be back by the river and the bay. Though it has been a long time since he swam in the ocean, Charlie remains a water boy.

It was a good 15-mile day followed by a somewhat unsettled night. My parents are due to visit at the end of March and since that is two weeks away, Charlie has, with his usual impeccable sense of timing, started worrying and anticipating. On a walk in the evening he insisted on carrying an old laminate-and-Velcro picture schedule of a long past visit. He then displayed a bout of mercurial requesting and rejecting his own requests, saying loud no's to going into whatever place he'd asked for just as we were driving up to it.

We ended up back home. Looking more at ease, Charlie asked for another walk and didn't take the picture schedule. Despite having slept on and off, he fell asleep before midnight.

If I had not felt the need to get my knowledge of Henry VIII and Lady Jane Grey in order, and had posted this after he had gone to sleep, this would have been one in the genre of ends-with-an-uplifting-lilt posts. As it is. Charlie woke Sunday at the same time as on Saturday only, it is now daylight saving time, it was 5.30am by the clock. He went for a walk, I went for a run, he didn't fall back asleep and by 8.45am we were heading out to jersey horse country where, moodily, Charlie and Jim (cheerily) biked twelve miles in mud and alongside slush. Charlie only poked at lunch and said 'yes' instead of the usual 'no' when I, on seeing him pulling at his fingertips, said 'fingernails.'

Once home, it turned out that Charlie had a torn nail and he let me clip away. He put away all the bike riding gear, went up to shower and, with 5.30pm (which must feel like 4.30pm to him) nearing, has been (as they say) power napping for the past 3 or 4 hours. Likely meaning that we shall be night owls here tonight.




Hope you got some sleep. I think that is so sweet that Charlie wanted to carry a schedule from an old visit. Sorry he is feeling anxious, and I hope his fingernail feels better.

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