Up well after the alarm at seven-thirty, a good ten hours sleep, the morning bright and warm, they're saying into the eighties today. T-shirt weather. Believe me, it is, I'm sitting here in a t-shirt inside with the fan blowing a stream of air across my lap.

We'll finish the photographs today and catch up on the guitar. I may go outside, I may not.

Later. The two artandlife sections are done, took the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. It leaves me at the ambivalent stage after posting. Are these worth the photons it took to create them? These thoughts will pass, they always do and we're back out again taking them.

A walk then to the morning restaurant for lunch, something or other with ice cream and a lemonade sitting under an umbrella out at a table in the sun. Double vision of sorts as I walking over, much better as I was walking back. Definitely t-shirt weather, really too warm in a t-shirt in the direct sun. Too cold, too hot, too cold. You can't win for all the over complaining din.

Earth Day today. There was a gathering in San Francisco on Saturday while I was at the Cherry Blossom Festival in Japantown, but that was about it for Left Coast Central. How many people demonstrated back on that first Earth Day in 1970? Twenty million in the United States alone? I believe I was one of them, although I don't quite remember. We demonstrated against the war, we were in favor of the planet, but being in favor of the planet is so last century from the look of it anymore.

Anyway, sitting here in front of the fan, some though to pick up the guitar. We're going to make up for yesterday when we got less than an hour of practice in before the world went anti-guitar after that dinner. Just a bit of juggling. I'm thinking of testing the DeLallo Red Clam sauce this evening, see if it has access to the same set of tricks.

Later still. I suspect it wasn't the Progresso Clam sauce yesterday. Which in some sense is good, still having cans of the stuff up in the cupboard. Yes, cans: factory food, we've lived many years on its manufactured calories. How do I know it wasn't the clam sauce? The usual method: another one of the damned things came on around four and lasted for a good hour or more, which has caused me to contemplate one or two radical changes through the rest of the week.

How so?

No more ice cream at noon. For lunch.

That's it?

At a more realistic level we'll take one or two other steps, no need to mention them now unless they should lead to something. Otherwise continuing with this mindless babbling isn't doing any of us good.

Evening. Watched some T.V., played some guitar, had a nice red clam sauce spaghetti dinner with the world is still spinning on its axis and I not spinning at all. So much for evil clam sauce, I had it long enough ago now to know. Still, a good way to finish an evening, some more guitar and then to bed before ten. Life in the fast lane again.