Sunday. Vague recollections of awakening briefly once or twice last night after lights out before ten to then awaken at quarter after six, right on target, to get up and head out the door to drive to breakfast, arriving to take off my jacket at my usual table and realize I'd forgotten the reading glasses. OK. A drive home to retrieve the glasses and return to the restaurant. When's the last time I've done that? Been a while. We're not to the point to affixing sticky notes to the apartment front door as a reminder - have you remembered your glasses? - and I suspect there's no reason to be worried, too worried, just noting it here in passing.

The chicken-apple sausage, eggs over medium, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast, more because I heard the another diner order the chicken-apple sausage and I realized I could go with it too without having any second thoughts. We do plan on heading out to the Pistahan Festival later, but didn't think chicken-apple whatever it was would bring on an ocular anything. Hope not.

Home to fret over yesterday's babble spattered entry. Maybe a nap before we set out for the city.

Later. It did take time with at least one false start, but a bus to the Broadway ATM and then on to the 19th Street BART station to take the train to Montgomery Street and the Pistahan Festival rather than continuing on to Mission-24th Street and photograph a protest scheduled for two o'clock against the Charlottesville violence, one of many being held today including one here later in Oakland.

The Pistahan Festival was quite crowded for the hour or so I spent walking around looking for pictures, not enough pictures for a web section I'm afraid, but happy enough to have made the effort. And it was an effort. Nothing from the chicken-apple sausage this morning, but the head was in a bell putting the world outside just a few degrees off. Next time we'll take another dose of the pain meds before we set out, but I suspect we're going to be living with this, pills or not.

A train back to the 19th Street station, a bus due in twenty minutes, so a walk to the bus stop at Grand and Webster to take another couple of photographs of the apartment house that was recently destroyed by fire. Fifteen minutes then to wait for the bus in a cool breeze. Felt good sitting there in that breeze.

Evening. Sort of watched the two episodes of Elementary that started at five, sort of in the sense it was playing in the living room as I was futzing around on the computer. I'd seen them before and didn't remember them all that fondly. Ah, well.

Tired and so to bed and the tablet way too early. An uneven day, but no complaints. Really.

Not even the “head in a bell”?

Better than “head in a box”.