Sunday. Lights out and to sleep at a decent hour, awakening somewhat later than usual to get up to find all three papers had been delivered (because I got up later than usual or because they all arrived on time?) and drove off to breakfast and back in a pretty good mood before reading yesterday's entry. Which wasn't pleasant. What has happened to the writing, other than not assigning enough time or thought to the process? Embarrassing to be embarrassed at a time in life when you're no longer embarrassed about much of anything anymore.

Or something like that.

Or something like that.

Anyway, a slow morning, wrestling without quite fixing yesterday's entry before heading downtown on a bus to City Hall to check out the Oakland Book Fair, the first of its kind here in Oakland, arriving to find a long line of tents and people milling about. And so one or two pictures.

I'd brought both cameras, one in the backpack just in case, but didn't stay any longer than it took to browse the various displays, note the group of children sitting at tables with coloring books and listening to other children read poetry to their peers into a microphone behind them. Liked that but, you know, children. Don't need to be perceived as some uninvited old codger who's wandering about taking pictures.

Back up Broadway, noting the Latham Square road construction progress in passing, a walk on to the Subway on Grand to pick up a tuna fish sandwich (and cookie) to eat later when I got home. A bus home to sit here, eat the sandwich and start another rambling entry.

Later. A two hour nap. My, my. I guess I needed it. Up now, a bit groggy as it approaches four to, well, do something. I guess. Sunny skies all afternoon, a protest downtown starting at eight we can skip. Too old and slow smart to go for any of the after dark stuff.

Evening. Nothing on television my tender sensibilities can handle and so to bed and the tablet. Maybe try reading. I have books in progress, some of which have been in progress now since the last millennium.