Saturday. Lights out by nine-thirty, awakening then at a quarter to six to take my time getting up and heading out walking to breakfast on another overcast morning, the temperatures due again to get up into the mid-seventies. Arrived well before the first waitress arrived, but the dining area door was again unlocked and so inside to turn on the lights and settle in with the papers to see what our fearless leader has been up to overnight.

The two strips of bacon, eggs over medium, country potatoes, fruit cup and coffee, the weight on the scale exactly on the 150 target this morning. Seems to be holding without any particular effort. Finished up again by a quarter to nine and set out for home, the usual pictures of flowers and scooters along the way, another of the construction going on above the sidewalk below my apartment. Maybe go down with a camera with a better suited lens later for a decent picture.

A selfie with the shorn hair before settling in with yesterday's entry, the usual expressions of angst before posting.

Later. I did walk over to the lake in the late afternoon to take a series of pictures of a group of seven pelicans that had come close to the shore while feeding and then snap another couple of pictures of musicians playing along with the drummers that gather in the late afternoons and play into the evenings on weekends. But that was it. Back to the apartment to lie down for half an hour before watching more golf on television. Golf in the early afternoon, a Giants game later in the afternoon, we've given into two American obsessions.

Evening. Stayed up long enough to check out Anastasia on Public Television at eight, Yule Brynner and Ingrid Bergman, a movie I'd seen when it was released in 1956. I think. Well, a movie I've seen. Didn't need to see more than about ten minutes of it before heading to bed, the day done, the head full of cement.

You're just throwing that together because you don't want to work at writing something sensible and accurate.

It was getting dark, it was time to turn out my lights.