Thursday. Definitely raining when the lights went out after nine last night, to awaken then after another “decent” night's sleep at six-thirty. OK, checked the bedroom window: streets wet, but not raining, the clouds looking ominous, but giving the feeling it would be alright to walk. So we walked.

The Eggs Benedict, country potatoes, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast. The weight one forty-eight on the scale this morning, best to up the calorie content a notch. Well, I was hungry and the Eggs Benedict appealed. No need to make excuses for any of it.

The day lighter with some sun poking through on the walk home, a couple of extra pictures when I passed the beer delivery truck. Haven't had any alcohol now in so long I didn't even reflect on what the stuff may actually taste like, more interested in the graphics. Another picture or two and then home, another day ahead.

No sign of the package I was expecting (on Sunday!), but a USPS message saying the package may have been lost. So I guess we're going to be making some calls. No tragedies here, Amazon will send another, but a first for the post office “losing a package” I admit.

Later. Contacted Amazon to let them know about the “lost package” and they shipped another one for delivery tomorrow. I've only had two instances now with a damaged or a lost package and Amazon has made good without charge or comment. So done and taken care of.

Sun in the early afternoon, raining now at two-thirty, the weather maps showing islands of rain moving over the area. We do need the rain, we're still short after the drought, and they're saying starting this weekend we're looking at ten days without rain. So rain now, please. That drought was no fun, be nice to put the next one off for at least another year. Rain, though. I was thinking of going out to get something to eat.

Evening. Ended up watching an episode of Vera I knew I'd seen before, but couldn't remember who'd done it or how the crime was solved. Just sat and watched. Have wondered about what seems to me to be my odd interest in this program or that. If I really wanted to know I'd have to sit and write it out. Clears and focuses the brain when you write something down, the main reason I suspect most people end up writing books.

And the reason you never finished writing your book?

Sloth. Lack of demons mean enough to push when the writing got tough. With age you gain perspective on such stuff.