Tuesday. Lights out by ten to get what I thought was a uneven night's rest, although awakening at six-thirty feeling pretty good. Not raining and so a walk to breakfast and back, documenting the gas price change across the street and then the lone pandorea flower in front of the café. Comfortably in our rut, in other words, the (now sunny) day starting well. No complaints. Other than, well, yesterday's entry. Then again, when do we not complain about that?

We'll futz some more with the Running Festival pictures. Don't like the looks of one or two, need to work on them more in Lightroom and Photoshop. One day I really do need to learn how to use them. (That's my own laughter echoing in the background.)

Later. An eleven-thirty bus to Latham Square to take pictures, finding another reasonably large crew making progress. What looked to be progress. Finishing up shooting, I walked (briskly) back to the Broadway ATM hoping I could then catch the return bus farther on up at the Grand and Webster stop before it arrived, catching it by jogging the last hundred yards or so to meet it on time.

Off at the 7-11 look-alike thinking a box of Good & Plenty - they must have it in stock after all these weeks they've been out, right? - to find its slot on the shelf gone, it's empty box replaced by a chocolate replacement. What the hell, on to the apartment. Life can be lived without licorice. We do live in a world where calories abound.

Later still. Read more Raylan, now over half way through. Not good when you start thinking about that: how much you've read, how much more you have to go.

Charlie Rose had a discussion of the Belgium bombings that's been dominating today's news, don't really need to hear more, although I did listen for a while. To bed by nine, see if I can find something on the tablet to while away another hour. Or so.