Mr. S came by the café to pick up a cup of coffee on his way to his office while I was at breakfast and suggested I photograph his son at some point this week who's participating in a tennis camp here in the area. Sounded good, something to photograph before the weekend, so we'll see if that works out. Do it when it's not raining, though. I assume they're playing on outdoor courts.

Home now, no thought of a nap, although we'll know for sure after we give it another hour. With the light rain there aren't a lot of options other than guitar. I do need to spend time today on the guitar and I will, but not right now before nine in the morning. Unseemly to be practicing before nine in the morning.

Later. Crawled into bed, wouldn't call it a nap, closed the eyes, didn't sleep. Up to head downtown on the bus, stopping by the ATM on Broadway and then catching the free bus the rest of the way downtown.

The chalk mural had been scrubbed, as I assumed it would, a walk through the City Center debating options for lunch - might we eat this? might we eat that? - and decided to catch the bus back to the morning café for ice cream and a lemonade. Hard to be original so early in the week even for the retired.

A walk back by the lake, the sky overcast with some more slight rain. Nothing to worry about, nothing that would get you wet, but there was always a chance the skies might open up. Best not to press our luck.

Guitar now. And the news. We don't seem to be able to kick the news.

Later still. Ah yes, sinuses. How little I paid attention to you in your many years of quietude before someone tweaked you with his scalpel.

Evening. Some time on the guitar. Not nearly enough, but we've made a start. Nothing on television at six, a Charlie Rose program I was willing to watch at eight, we'll see what's up, if anything, at nine. Maybe Netflix. Then to bed. Really. Before ten.