Awake at seven-thirty, just right, as the morning café doesn't open today until eight, off to breakfast and back to note the eight cent drop in the price of a gallon of regular at the station across the street, the first price change in well over a month. My, my. A New Year starts on an upbeat note in at least one minor sense, we'll cross our fingers and hope for more.

I did have mixed fruit, eggs over medium, country potatoes and toast for breakfast, hearing the waitress warn the kitchen on using the seasoning mix, but was it after the cook had already prepared the meal? Hard to say, but I had to lie down for an hour or so with the dry mouth and funky head when I got back, delaying posting this thing and then getting up around noon to head into some sense of normality. The alcohol last night combined with something in the potatoes? Clutching at straws? This is the way we've started the New Year, just a flick of the whip to let us know who's still in charge?

What the hell, the sun is shining, a walk is calling, and we do need more photographs to feed this beast.

Later. Cold out there. Sunny and cold, people walking the lake, but not a lot of people as I walked to the morning café for breakfast. Felt good now that it was just after noon, had a pastry, ice cream and coffee (the ladies not charging me for my meal to celebrate the New Year) out on the patio, the restaurant tables inside filled with people waiting in line. (But with room outside on the patio where it was brisk but, for a sweater and winter coat crowd, more than bearable).

Ice cream?

Calories. Generates heat. Habit. Fill in the blank, we had ice cream again and we'll make no excuses.

Back now, no desire to go outside again, although the afternoon is early. New Year's Day. Football, right? Even for those of us who've not followed the game in some time, New Year's Day is a day for the game (and maybe a little guitar). Whatever, we're feeling better, we're going to go with what works and football, for the moment, may be the ticket.

Evening. Of course one must find a game on one of the three broadcast television stations if one is to watch football around here. Which I didn't find. Couldn't find. Didn't seem to matter much, there was a Maigret on at six that I hadn't seen before and I managed to become interested in two Netflix movies, done with them and off to bed by ten, some of the Jack Daniels through the evening to ease us into sleep.

And that's it?

And that's it. Return in the morning to dot the i's and cross the t's and to carry on.