Tuesday. It did rain, heard it coming down outside the bedroom window as I was awakening at quarter to six, to get up and get ready to drive to breakfast early, get there and leave before the meters kicked in. Not raining during the drive, not raining on the drive back, but raining now, as I sit here at the computer, raining on and off as I was eating breakfast. No complaints. We're dry and no cameras were damaged during the trip.

Some bitching this morning as I edited yesterday's entry. Still won't (can't?) spend the time or effort needed to properly finish one of these things. Not noticing, not able or perhaps not willing to turn stupid prose, clunky prose, into less stupid, clearer prose. You're supposed to be cleaning up your commas, smoothing the rhythm, listening with a critical ear to the sound. But we don't. And, I guess, won't.

And?

Not worth the time or the effort to edit, but worth spending enormous amounts of time complaining about it? Go figure.

Later. It hasn't been raining now for some time, although tired and so a bath and then lying down for a while. Not hungry and not able to talk myself out for a walk, so continued working on the the Sunday Streets photographs, putting together a section by the very end of the afternoon. Scraped the bottom of the barrel to do it, let me tell you, and I would tell you, if I hadn't so endlessly bitched about this “bottom of the barrel” business in the past.

Evening. Remembered the first game of the World Series was playing this evening, remembered when they were already in the third inning, but still, watched the game from then on. The Cubs are favored to win the series, so we'll go with Cleveland just to go with an underdog. Haven't followed baseball, of course, so no opinions here or there, but no reason not to relax and enjoy it.

OK, Cleveland won. A good game, what baseball is supposed to be when it's played well. (So much for no opinions.) To bed early after what turned out to be a pretty good day, I'd say.