Saturday. To sleep not long after ten to awaken at a quarter to six, still the tickle in the throat, but no worse and perhaps better than it had been last night. OK, up to drive to the Lakeshore ATM and then over the hill to the restaurant to settle in at the same outside table and order the avocado and mushroom omelet, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee, the sun starting to break through the clouds, the temperature somewhat warmer than it was yesterday morning when I'd worn a heavier coat.
Finished up at a quarter after nine to document the six cent a gallon increase in the price of regular out of habit, took the usual picture of the sidewalk as I set out for the car as well as one of flowers along the restaurant patio fence, driving straight home to take the selfie before settling in with yesterday's entry for editing and posting.
Seems a nice day out there, can I get in an hour's drive later in preparation for taking the smog test on Monday? I wonder.
Later. Watched the 3M Open golf tournament for two hours before deciding to just get up, head out the door and drive onto Highway 580 for fifteen minutes before turning around and heading home. Should have driven longer to better prepare for the test, but getting me out and into the car was effort enough. No difficulty driving, but I'm suffering from some kind of weird hermit thing that makes getting me to go anywhere a giant hassle.
Evening. More time on the tablet before getting up at eight to watch Roxanne on PBS to see what it was about. Steve Martin sporting a Pinocchio nose. Steve Martin's bright eyes and bushy tailed brand of humor has never been a favorite and so back to bed and the tablet to continue with an Polish detective series on Netflix that's caught and now seems to have kept my attention. At least the tickle of a sore throat seems to have packed its bags and left us alone.