Friday. Awake at six-thirty. A little late, but at least it guaranteed all three papers had arrived.

Overcast and cool, but they're saying sun later and so set out in a light jacket sans sweater and had the pork chop breakfast for the first time in weeks to return home not quite sure if the gas prices had changed since yesterday (down $2.93 to $2.91 for regular?) and so crossed Grand to take the necessary pictures if it had. I'd started the day more slowly than I'd have liked, but in all other ways reasonably well I was thinking.

Then I opened and read yesterday's entry. Clarity of mind? I too often talk about becoming fuzzy headed and the crappy writing and I am being honest with them, they're true after all, but this morning I became really concerned. I realized somewhat later I was feeling the symptoms of an ocular migraine coming on as I was reading, more the fuzzy headed aspect than the hallucinatory side. So I gave up for an hour and went to bed to clear the head before finishing editing and posting. Still, fuzzy headed today doesn't explain writing done yesterday when I was thinking I was fuzzy free and clear headed.

Later. Over to the lake, finally, right out the door with a camera looking for cormorants. Yesterday they were a line of birds on a conveyor belt, coming in to dive for nest building materials from the lake bottom by the pergola fountain and then carrying them to their island nesting area. And today there was not a one. None.

So, standing by one of the trees at the shore, I noticed three sparrows (they all look like sparrows to me) and so took half a dozen pictures. And that was the trip to the lake I've been threatening to make for days now on these sunny afternoons, the temperature much like yesterday's temperature, not a single cormorant flying.

Evening. Been a while since the last ocular migraine, been a while since I've had a pork chop for breakfast, been a while since whatever they use in preparing the pork chop has brought on a migraine and so I suspect it's not a coincidence I had one this night. Lost touch with reality, but managed to close down the computer, turn out the lights and crawl into bed. Distressing. I've had them before, of course, and so, when I realized what was happening, I did what was necessary, what I've done in the past. To bed and lights out before eight. Probably means we'll awaken quite early.