Saturday. Bright sun this morning. They're saying it will be clear through the weekend and on into next week. Awakened from a relatively deep sleep by the alarm, but up easily enough to head out for breakfast. No Tribune again until after I'd returned this morning, so I guess whatever's been delaying it has yet to be resolved.
Later. And another morning lie down for a while, drift off for maybe an hour, then up to walk over along the lake and through the farmers market to Lakeshore for two scoops of ice cream in a paper cup before heading on to the ATM and then back straight home. Decent ice cream. Still hungry, but we need to get hungrier before we'll break down and come up with something we'll eat. Dysfunctional kind of hungry in my opinion.
No pictures really. A simple piece of graffiti I couldn't pass by without taking a photograph, a picture of what looks to be a rope that's been propped up by a stick going from the shore to the lake fountain. I've been wondering about that since it appeared a week or so ago. The lake or estuary itself is evidently no more than ten to twelve feet deep, so propping something up with a stick is probably no great feat, but why? Why the stick, why the rope (Mr. Natural)?
Oh, and a snapshot of the Capoeira dancers, but just the one, just walking by, no thought or energy put into it.
Back now to do what? It's one in the afternoon with most of a day still ahead. I'm thinking a bath and so I'll do that, but otherwise probably dinner later and the evening is done.
Later still. Another day of naps, futzing on the computer, practicing guitar (good, that one is good) and feeling a bit funky. Feeling a bit funky is not so good. Spaghetti with clam sauce for dinner. Ouch. Still, the evening approaches and the evenings are usually nice. Nothing on television, but we can work with that.
Evening. Some thought of walking down the way to pick up one of the small three-shot bottles of Jack Daniels, but no way I'm going to do that. More a fidgety sign than anything else. Gives a sense of the scrambling going on to find something to engage our interest.