But what the hell? Another nice day out there, my guitar lesson now at noon, we'll see if we've made decent progress. Hup. At least I feel at peace with the amount of practice I put in. We're not looking to master the thing, just at some point assemble a small list of tunes we can play at rock concerts when we're asked. You know, with Clapton and the band.

Later. I noticed, when I got home, the gas prices had gone back up to $4.25 a gallon again, up two cents from yesterday when they'd dropped down two cents to $4.23 the day before. I'm sure the gas station attendant, if he's noticed me over the years photographing his sign, thinks me, well, “eccentric” if not potentially dangerous (some kind of do gooder compiling evidence?), but I took a walk by the lake (catching these guys on the fly, a cormorant building a nest on the bird island down the way and two ducks in the distance cavorting) and then on to the gas station across from the morning restaurant to photograph the change I didn't catch earlier at breakfast.

The photographs of the birds make me want to put a proper lens on the camera and hang out long enough to get a proper picture, the three linked to here having been severely cropped to get in close enough to see the birds. I'm thinking of devious ways to acquire more equipment than cobbling together a setup from what I have on hand (a way to spend money rather than use one's intelligence), but I won't, not for a while, anyway. I often think about such matters for a long time before I act to the good or to the bad, the time thinking doesn't seem to make the outcomes any better. But such is life.

Some practice, now, I think. We do have that guitar lesson ahead.

Later still. A good lesson, I think. I need to play Tumblin Dice along with the recording more to get the rhythm right, but I knew that. I've never understood why I avoid it. The chord changes were certainly better today after a decent week's practice.

A picture or two taking a walk in the immediate neighborhood while waiting on the lesson to start, a photo of this, a display that's been there pretty much in this same form out on a patio table every time I've been there for a lesson, hate to think how much whomever this is smokes. I haven't asked my teacher, although I'm pretty sure it isn't he, I've never seen him with a cigarette. Then, of course, you wouldn't smoke during a lesson if you're after students I'd think.

Anyway, a bus then downtown to see if there was anything to see on this bike to work day. Better to have been there in the morning from my experience, but I'd forgotten today was bike day and besides, I haven't been able to get any particularly interesting pictures in the past.

Do you really spend time mulling over photographing something like an Oakland bike to work day?

Well, just now. It came to mind. I tend to write what comes to mind without, you know, filtering out the crap. We've been rather catholic in our opinions about crap. It's an art thing, not a defect. (hup.)

Evening. Thoughts of getting something to eat, but without being able to think of anything I liked enough to go out and get. This has happened now and again, but not recently. I'm not losing weight, not gaining weight, keeping it in mind, yes, but not doing much other than checking every morning on the scale. But still. Hungry, no doubt about it, but not going out and getting something, anything? Heating a cup full of frozen vegetables in its place? I guess. Still seems odd given my past.

But I'm tired. Off to bed.