Sunday. To sleep not long after ten to awaken at five-thirty and not doze off to listen to CounterSpin when it came on at six followed by TUC Radio that started right after, getting up finally to drive to the Lakeshore ATM before heading on to breakfast and arrive at the usual time under overcast skies, settling in at my table with the papers.

The ground beef patty, scrambled eggs, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee, the weight still just under one fifty-three on the scale this morning, finishing up a little later than usual to snap a couple of pictures on the way to the car (dodging a fellow who'd been wandering about shouting at people on the sidewalk) and driving straight home to take the selfie and settle in at the computer to post yesterday's entry, process the morning pictures and end up writing this just after eleven.

Later. Seventy-four degrees just after one still wearing just a long sleeved shirt without a sweater, a first since the end of last summer. Didn't wear a sweater this morning going to breakfast, figuring if I was wrong I'd be driving and not walking if it turned out to be too cold. Summer is here?

Later. Watched patches of the PGA tournament that started at noon with occasional breaks to lie on the bed and continue watching a series on the tablet. A quick walk halfway down my hill to see what was happening over at the lake, observed the too large crowd and so didn't even take the camera out of the backpack for a picture. Returned to the apartment to continue with that series on the tablet. I did manage another picture of the pigeon.

Evening. Watched some of a new episode of the Agatha Cristie detective series that started at eight, but gave up soon after and went to bed before nine. Nothing on the radio on Sunday nights and so lights out by ten to listen to the fireworks explode in the distance through the wide open bedroom windows. Summer is here? I think we may have answered that question.