Tuesday. Another pretty good morning, the sun shining, the temperature cool, but nice. Up with the alarm to head off to breakfast and back, noting the gas station sign was now working properly and taking a picture of the pandorea vine, still blooming. Comfortable in our rut, our habitual morning routine, feeling snappy.

Snappy?

Feeling aware and ready for the day. Nothing over the top, but you can only start writing about a day, every day, in so many ways. How many times have I used the term “good”? It was too many ten years ago. Maybe a cross to bear after all those early years of writing and not finishing a book. It wasn't a very good book, but the patter was snappy after those many hours. I seem to recall.

Later. A walk to the construction site to see what it looked like now that they'd poured about half of the second floor ceiling, third story floor. Looks like it's about a foot thick. A foot of cement. I'd think there would be some sound insulation in that. I have no idea what they've used in my own apartment house, whether or not we too have that kind of insulation above and below our feet. Sometimes at night.... Well, a passing thought.

Anyway pictures and then a walk right back. No thought to go downtown, no thought to go anywhere, really. I have a package due from Dell today, two disk drives I ordered after that first drive failed. They replaced the failed drive immediately, but I figured a fellow can always use more storage. Once having lost photographs to a drive failure you're sensitive, even when you've covered every aspect of the problem for the future. Too much is never too much. Mumble.

Later still. There is a Veterans Day Parade in San Francisco this year. Looked again, it kicks off on Tuesday (Veterans Day) at eleven. So good, something to photograph. And I am a vet. Keep forgetting that, but I am. Don't mention it much, another time, another world.

A walk down to the 7-11 look-alike for an ice cream bar, a vanilla ice cream bar rather than a coffee ice cream bar. I figure there's no difference, but we'll watch of any signs of an ocular migraine later. I'm not expecting one, but I'm wrong more often than right these days. Hard for someone to admit when he, back in his brilliant youth, was always right.

That's lame.

The one small blot on an otherwise good afternoon.

Evening. Election coverage. I'm an election junkie. Not sure why.