Sunday. Lights out well before ten to awaken then at a quarter to six, the same too early awakening of these last several days. Or weeks. Or years. I have no idea anymore, but I've been doing it for a while.

Off to drive to breakfast at five to seven to wait for all of three or four minutes before the usual member of the kitchen staff arrived. Ordered the single pork chop, eggs over medium, country potatoes, toast and coffee half an hour after arriving: another clear skies, bright sunny day underway.

Little memory glitches have peppered the morning. Forgot to bring the car keys when I set out for the garage, leaving them on the dresser when I picked up the house keys, as I usually only bring the house keys with me when I'm not driving, and I'm usually not driving. OK. I've done this before, but something you do notice.

But one picture while heading for the car, the table again filled with diners next to the one remaining pandorea flower if, indeed, the flower still survives. There's a Berkeley event today and I suspect I'll take pictures. Take BART to this one. Bring a lighter camera.

Later. Turned out I wasn't going to Berkeley to shoot pictures after all as I ended up watching golf for most of the afternoon before taking a very brief walk over to the lake to take pictures. Lots of people in every direction with the usual assemblage of drummers at the white column pergola. Walking back I saw the mystery woman running along Grand again and managed a snapshot.

So good. A bit tired coming back from the lake, which is disconcerting given how short the outing, but not so tired as to forgo work on yesterday's sex worker's pictures.

Evening. Watched the two episodes of Elementary while working on photographs at the computer (I guess it would be better to say “listened to” rather than “watched”), gave up on the living room and watched Instinct on the tablet and then gave up the ghost, lights out not long after nine.