Saturday. Another what is now, I guess, the current definition of a good night's rest: lights out by ten, not up more than once during the night, awakening after six-thirty. Didn't quite make it to six-thirty, but still, a decent night's sleep.

It was raining last night, the newspaper plastic wrappers were wet, but so far no rain this morning, the sun coming through dark clouds now at half past nine. The pork chop and eggs over easy again for breakfast, although I noticed this time that the country potatoes still had its skin attached, something they warn against in the colonoscopy instructions. So we left most of them on the plate. There were some small seeds in the jam as well, but the hell with that. Jam on a piece of toast will not make a colonoscopy go south. He said.

Anyway a no meter Saturday and so a drive to breakfast and back, the gas prices jumping a dime overnight. I know we require a special blend here in California and the continued drop in the price of crude doesn't necessarily translate well to our market, but I'd be willing to bet it's more the small number of oil companies being able to increase the price prior to a Christmas week than the market.

Says Mr. Doesn't Drive His Car.

True, but it still has a wider effect. Those years studying Economics at least taught me that.

Later. Bright and sunny, a bit cold, so out the door bundled up for the temperature, heading over to the lake to take a couple of pictures passing the Ginga Mundo Capoeira group practicing at the usual place, heading on through the farmers market to Lakeshore (and the ice cream shop). OK, our last day of solid food, so two scoops in a cup and then back through the market to get a waffle square with whipped cream on top. Why not?

Back to the apartment to settle out with a nap. Tired, but not able to sleep. Slow, the head. Processed the pictures taken earlier after avoiding it for most of the afternoon and now sitting here filling in the gaps. Sun all day today, they're saying rain tomorrow.

Evening. Spaced out enough to forget the Democratic debate started at five and so dialed in maybe a half hour late to watch it for another hour before deciding the hell with it and going back to bed to search for something to watch on the tablet.

Yes, I'm a Saunders supporter. He sounds more like an America I remember when I was growing up going through school, not unlike an America my parents experienced. I don't trust Clinton to make a difference. Better Clinton than any of the Republicans, but Republican light isn't a step to the better. You pay any attention at all to what they say and then what they do through the years and you become discouraged.

All this to justify cutting it short with the debate and crawling in bed with the tablet?

Life as been strange since the very beginning and age and years show it to be even more so than you feared as you look back over the never ending words, deeds and distractions.