Saturday. Lights out early again. I find I get burned out watching whatever on the tablet at any length of time during the day, no matter how good or bad, and find I'm then not able to watch it in the evenings and so lights out well before ten. Can't really remember, but it may well have been not long after nine.
Anyway, awoke at ten to six, took my time getting up and so headed out to walk to breakfast with all three papers in tow. I'm getting the idea that the East Bay Times delivery is getting better, more reliably here along with the others. Cross fingers.
Passed by another bicycle that looked as if it had been left overnight locked to one of the stands. Too dark walking to breakfast to take a picture and so took one walking back. I seem to be overly interested in street crime these days.
The hamburger, scrambled eggs, country potatoes, toast, fruit cup and coffee for breakfast. Just a tad over one forty-eight this morning, figured I'd pig out. Except on pigs. My sister has been posting videos of how they raise pigs for the market on Facebook for me to think of bacon before noon. Or after noon. But we wander.
Cool enough to set out in a winter jacket again, bright sun, but still a cool enough temperature walking home, although I suspect it's going to get quite a bit warmer after noon. The usual pictures, but then it's always the usual pictures, shouldn't really even comment about it. The Folsom Street Fair pictures up top are becoming, have become, somewhat depressing, though. Not as depressing as bacon, but closer than I'd like.
You're babbling. Maybe get the head better together for the next round?
Later. So much for going here or there to take pictures. Blew off any thought to go to the Save The Bay Day at Jack London Square, more because it didn't interest me enough for the photographs than any latent fears, but still. Just didn't want to go. Maybe need to stop blathering on like an idiot in the mornings only to confirm the idiocy by bailing in the afternoons. Why this routine? Just relax.
Substituted a walk over to the lake with the full size camera, taking pictures of the small group of Capoeira dancers at the pergola, no more than one or two of interest. Sat for a bit to see if I could come up with more, but then a walk on toward the farmers market by the drummer who's been setting up at the corner of Grand and MacArthur for these last few months and so more pictures. A decent guitar player and singer at the market and that was enough adventure for the day and so back to the apartment.
Evening. Television. Not very good television, but what else do I ever say? Hey. I wonder if you can get disability on an inability to appreciate British television on PBS?
That and fear of Jack London Square would set you up for life!