Sunday. Awoke at a quarter to six and so dawdled a bit before getting up, taking the blood pressure (123/73) and getting ready to drive to breakfast in the rain, arriving at five minutes to seven, beating the waitresses' arrival by five or so minutes and so entered through the dining area door, turned on the lights and settled in with the papers.

The Eggs Benedict, country potatoes, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast for no particular reason other than that's what came out of my mouth when asked, finishing up by a quarter to nine, the rain having stopped on the drive home, taking the selfie and settling in at the computer. Started to feel tired as I was finishing up processing the pictures and so not much ambition to start with this, but maybe it will pass. I did stay up until ten before turning the lights out last night, maybe we're paying for it now.

Later. Lied down for an hour and that seems to have taken care of the tiredness bit, the sun is now out, maybe I can talk myself into heading out and getting something to eat. The odd hungry, but nothing appeals, routine.

The two Netflix series I've been watching have managed to take directions that cause me to give up on them. I wonder if I'm the only one who has this problem, the old duffer getting older routine. Nah. The ideas will occasionally pull you in, but the scripts are as often as not miserable.

Evening. Tried watching Victoria - Et In Arcadia at eight on PBS and gave up soon thereafter. I'm hopeless. To bed with the lights out and radio off by nine-thirty.