Saturday. Noticeably warmer when I awoke at just after six, this morning, not cold as I'd been getting up yesterday. Nice. A decent nights' sleep, in so far as I'm able to determine anymore, and so off to breakfast, again, the eyes not watering and the nose behaving. The restaurant was dark, but the dining area door was open and so in to turn on the lights and sit at the table to start the papers, the worker who'd opened the restaurant toiling away somewhere in the kitchen.

The single pork chop, scrambled eggs, country potatoes, toast and coffee for breakfast, the weight smack on target on the scale this morning. Finished up just after eight-thirty, the skies clear (they're saying rain later), the sun out while walking home. There'd been a story in the paper about Ford adding electric motor assisted GoBikes to their offerings at some point, at some point being today, because there were two or three of them in their rental line along Grand.

OK, maybe it will put off raining until this evening and we'll be able to get out later, the farmers market at minimum if we're timid. The usual scooter photos on the way home, another selfie in the apartment house lobby, the head clear, the mood good. I'd say.

Which you have. More than once.

Better than noting the alternative.

Later. It took two starts, but out the door to walk to the farmers market and have another waffle square with Nutella and whipped cream. Didn't taste as good as I was thinking it might, but it did get me out the door, so no complaints.

A walk to the gas station sign I'd missed photographing for the four cent drop in the price of regular this morning and then a walk home with the camera now out of the backpack and in hand. A shot passing the farmers market, another of the drummer at MacArthur and Grand. Not sure when I first noticed the new mural on the library, but a photograph finally, better late than never.

Sat for maybe three or four minutes before taking pictures of the crowd exercising in front of the white column pergola, experimenting a bit with the cropping when I got home. Closer is better, a famous photographer once said.

The sinus-upper palate acting up throughout, encouraging thoughts of getting home and not hanging around, and so back to take a double dose of the pain meds and process the pictures. Still don't know of the pain meds really have any effect, but the psychology of taking them probably helps.

Evening. Feel pretty good as I usually seem to in the evenings. Nothing to watch on television and so to the bedroom to watch whatever can be found on the tablet until ten. Or nine-thirty. Or whenever.