Friday. As yesterday, awoke at five, got up, took a leak and went back to bed to blink once or twice and find it was suddenly six-fifteen. OK, not bad. Up to walk to breakfast under clear cold skies, arriving just before seven to find the restaurant open and so sitting down to start on the papers. Good. The head clear. Relatively clear. I think.

Had the single pork chop, scrambled eggs, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast, finishing up by eight-thirty and setting out for home. The usual photographs that included the scooters and as well as five pieces of graffiti that had been stenciled on the sidewalk since I'd walked home from breakfast yesterday.

Home to start the laundry, just did it before I could argue myself out of it by suggesting I could put it off until next week. I could, but oh how much better to get it done today.

Later. Laundry done, folded and hung by noon and so, on a sunny afternoon, lied down on the bed and watched Struggle on the tablet, a documentary on the life of the artist Stanislaw Szukalski, produced by George and Leonardo DiCaprio that included interviews with some of the old poster artists and underground cartoonists, a film recommended by an artist friend from back then.

Weird man, Szukalski, to say the least, but, from the images of his sculptures, paintings and drawings, more than talented. Well, “weird”. He lived in his own self absorbed little fantasy world with an ego like a Donald Trump, but on steroids. Yes, really.

Evening. Watched two episodes of the Martin Beck series on television and bailed on a third as it approached ten. A good day, the laundry done, a new pillow on the bed and now ready to take another shot at awakening tomorrow morning at a decent time.