When:  Not as nice as yesterday, but still sunny, 2/1/2018
Weather: Low 60’s with sun and breeze; walked with a jacket
Observations/Thoughts

I didn’t enjoy my day at work. I considered neglecting the whole idea of a walk. When I realized I had to come up with something to write about, I found the energy to get a few steps in.

• Fence repaired:  My walk of yesterday will likely not follow the same path for some time.  Even though the older gentlemen was just trying to rattle me with talk of “marshals” and middle-age delinquency, I don’t want to waste good mental energy getting my conscious poked unfairly.  As I saw the part of the sidewalk in the “closed” zone, I noticed they had tidied up the fence.  It now looked only slightly more foreboding than yesterday.  If there were no fences today and the path was open, I was not going to brave it.  I am hoping the old man will forget about me.  (I will certainly wear a different hat next time I walk through.)
• Little Passer: A mother and son were out riding their bike.  As I came to the point of yesterday’s fateful decision and turned around, they turned around just behind me.  It wasn’t long before they passed me—son then mom.  The son passed pretty close on my left.  The mother gave him some encouraging words like, “Be careful. Don’t be too close to people.”  As she passed me, she apologized for her son’s hastiness.  I forget exactly what I said.  It was something like, “I heard you, mom.  I know you are working on him.”  I hope when people hear what I say, they hear what I mean and just the words.  When I reflect on what I say to others where the conversation is really brief, I seem to say things out loud that are not as clear as they were when the thought was formed.  I did mean well.
• Barking:  When I went “out” on the front end of the walk, the barking dogs didn’t give me much more than a look.   When I returned, they were all about barking and chasing me along the fence.  (Fortunately, they didn’t have any cameras or anything beyond their barks.)  However, since I was still in a “recovering” mood, my head imagined itself swelling up to 10 times its normal size.  My face took on a cartoonesque look.  I opened my mouth wide, and I roared at the dogs.  The force of my roar backed them up into the pool.  They exited the pool and cowered on the other side.  The windows of the house shook.  As I passed their house and came to the bridge, I dared not look back for fear my imagination got the best of me.