Friday. Indeed to bed and lights out by ten to pretty much sleep straight through until six, getting up and getting ready to drive to breakfast, yesterday's forecast for rain last night and early this morning in evidence and so no thought to walk. A very light rain, I suspect I could have survived if I'd had to walk, arriving to find a Range Rover sitting out in traffic across from the morning restaurant. And so a couple of pictures.
The conversation inside said the driver had called a flat bed tow truck, but they'd gotten into some kind of argument and the tow truck had driven off, the car and its driver having been there since four this morning. Right or wrong on the details, a flat bed truck did show up just as I was leaving. My, my. Friday excitement.
On the way home this poor guy was stuck in the middle of the intersection in front of the Grand Lake theater. Enough broken cars for a day, home now to see signs of sun, the weather people saying last night it would rain through the night and into the early morning, which it had, but another bout of rain arriving around noon before clearing up later and through the weekend.
Later. For once the weather forecast was exactly right and I set out for the Lakeshore ATM under an overcast sky, nasty looking in some places, got to the ATM and then, almost home, ducked into the café by the fitness center for an oatmeal cookie and coffee, the rain perversely starting just as I was leaving.
Ah, well. Not a long walk with much of it under overhanging trees and so home, a little damp, the camera dry (I'd remembered to bring along an old plastic bag I keep just in case) with the afternoon ahead. Warm enough out there, warm enough in here (running the fan). They say sun later. We'll see.
Later still. A little of this and a little of that and the afternoon has slipped by. A walk to the 7-11 look-alike for an ice cream bar, we'll know if there's going to be an ocular migraine-like kick back in about an hour (or three). Haven't had to think about that in a while.
Evening. A New Tricks at seven, one I've seen before, didn't seem to matter. Remembered some of it as I half followed along putting together pasta with clam sauce for dinner. Haven't had any interest in having that for quite a while now, almost surprised myself when I thought of preparing it.
Another Charlie Rose at eight, one of the CIA directors/honchos/whomever talking about the various terrorist flavors currently roiling the Middle East before deciding to quit and go to bed. And that was it (for this Friday evening).