Monday, December 30th, the sixth day of Christmas. It is chilly. The house hasn’t warmed up yet. According to the Weather Underground website, it is 36 degrees in Woodbridge right now. There has been traffic on this quiet cul-de-saq early this morning. The latest has been a snowplow. THere isn’t any snow on the porch, so I’m wondering if it got cold enough last night to turn yesterday’s rain into black ice.

On the rainy last Sunday of the year, I went to church. Between the rain and being the Sunday after Christmas day, it was a much smaller crowd than usual. At home, after church, I alternated between reading and sleeping and have lots of notes for my blog post.

One friend received Google Glass for Christmas. He posted a brief point of view moving of his son playing with him and pondered the utility and social costs of Google Glass.

I commented about how I’ve been wearing Google Glass for over six months now and found the social costs minimal,far less than the value I’ve found wearing glass. I haven’t been barred from restaurants. I haven’t, as far as I know, made people around me uncomfortable by wearing glass. Glass has been an icebreaker in some discussions, but it hasn’t dominated discussions.

As more people start wearing Google Glass, it will be interesting to see how it changes the media we produce and consume. While I relish the idea of the independent citizen journalist running down the street capturing video moments of a city in distress, I expect most of the material captured will be family moments. Yet perhaps that is a good thing. Despite the impasses in Washington, yesterday, my white dog snuggled up next to my black cat as I read, listening to the rain outside.

I posted a picture of the dog and the cat online and went on to read James Franco’s The Meanings of the Selfie in the New York Times Arts section so I added a selfie to my pictures of the day. Although Franco does not explicitly use the word ‘context’ in his article. It seems like that is a key idea and perhaps one I’ll be exploring more during the coming days.

I read a lot of other things yesterday, contexts for different conversations or events. They can wait for another post. It is almost time to get on with the day.

But before I do so, I want to save a fragment of last nights dream. I was traveling, similar to my journeys of thirty years ago. I was in a Northern European maritime city, hanging out by the boats. There were a bunch of us, struggling to get by. We scrounged food and found coins and lottery tickets. It was a brief moment before I awoke, without plot or context. I drew me back to my travels, as well as my journals from my travels thirty years ago, and I wonder how this image will shape my coming writing.