AUSTIN, Texas, Feb. 7, 2005 — If I seem driven by duty today, it's a lie. I'm just doing what I want to do.

I wake up hearing it rain and pretty hard, too. I figure it might keep Dad from going for water aerobics.

But around seven it seems to have let up. I know it's warm enough for him to make the class. I don't put my suit on. Instead, I throw it in my bag and put on shorts and put shoes and socks in the bag and slip on my pool slides.

I make the bed, get some coffee and fool around until I am, actually, a couple of minutes late. They haven't uncovered the deep end of the pool but Dad is there and water aerobics on. I go inside and change into my suit. Dad, the instructor and one other person are in the water. It is raining. "I better get in the water before I get wet," I say with a laugh.

The class is small, no one else comes...possibly the rain is to blame. My dad jokes a little. The other person is talkative and fills the spaces with what she is giving up for Lent (wine) and how she'll substitute for it and what Oscar-nominated movies she's seen and what she thinks about them. Dad adds a joke here and there. He implies he's giving up sex for Lent, for example.

I go to the gym afterward and do forty minutes on the bike, reading my book. Then I do a few weights. I feel I need to do a bit because I never did any exercise yesterday. But I don't feel like I'm doing anything I don't want to do.

I go home and call the CPA. I decide to hand deliver my dad's tax stuff to her. Of course, no one likes to put all their original documents that have finally arrived in the mail in the mail once again. (Even though I made copies.) But really it's just an excuse to drive down to South Congress.

I eat some cereal, work a crossword puzzle (it's Monday so The New York Times has an easy puzzle) and shower. I do a few things on my computer and go out for my 'errands.' Since I'm going out, FFP has me take a bank deposit. After that I go to South Congress. I go up to the CPA's office (above Uncommon Objects). She's probably in the neighborhood somewhere but doesn't answer her door. I find that the thin packet of Dad's tax documents slides easily under it.

I walk up and down looking in windows and even going in one shop. I notice that the Rock 'N Roll rentals and the Camera Coop have moved. The toy store that took part of the old Terra Toys space seems to have stocked up even more stuff. I don't buy anything anywhere. I go over to S. First and drive north, hooking up with Lavaca and then Guadalupe at the University and taking it to 45th. In other words: the scenic route home.

At home I have a snack and watch Millionaire (on the DVR). Then I wash up some dishes and do some packing to leave town.

Wine dinners. They always seem like good ideas when we sign up. Young bucks from California, a phalanx of glasses filling with interesting stuff while interesting courses come your way. Maybe some interesting dinner companions, arbitrarily chosen by the organizers. And this event, at Mirabelle, doesn't really disappoint. The pre-dinner tasting is a little crowded but we manage to sip each of four interesting if not stunning wines and taste a few bites of apps. The dinner is good and I lose count of the wines offered. The last was a late harvest Viognier. I liked one of the Pinots, I think, and a Shiraz. One of the impossibly young winemakers sat at our table, smiling and confident. One of Austin's most inexhaustible bon vivants, too, a very portly man who loves wine and women. It's good to do one of these, once in a while. We have paced ourselves in the face of much. We head home.

And home and sleep. Just another day of doing pretty much what I want to do.