Tuesday. Lights out early enough, but an uneven night getting to sleep, seemingly awake on and off for too long periods at the beginning. Awake somewhat later than six-thirty, but for the best with the difficulty in dropping off. At least that was the thought. What the hell, the night is done, the head seems clear and the walk went well both to and from breakfast on this, the bright sunny first morning of our 73rd year.
Good for we? Seems awfully old to me.
Good for we.
Later. An eleven o'clock bus to Latham Square to find a work crew well underway and so the usual set of pictures from the usual set of locations thinking I'd then pick up the two needed vitamins I'd run out of at the old downtown pharmacy, but doing that would probably make it too late to catch the returning bus. Had to run that last hundred feet, but I did catch the bus. Life in the fast lane.
I've had no thoughts about doing anything special on this birthday. Eat something exotic? Go to a restaurant I haven't been to in a while? We'll debate that more when we get hungry, although it's into the afternoon right now and hungry has yet to happen.
So, work on the pictures taken today and see how things look in another couple of hours. Right? Hup?
Later still. Processed the pictures and then put together another section of Latham Square photographs for the web sites, bringing them current before walking over to the burger drive-in for a grilled chicken sandwich around four when I finally felt not quite hungry, but then not against the idea of food. Complicated damned process.
Evening. Followed along watching the Democratic Michigan primary race, Sanders ahead now at eight in the evening, seventy some percent of the vote reporting. Close, but they'd been projecting a Clinton win by as much as twenty to twenty-five points and so they've got my attention.
Checking in bed on the tablet to find Sanders had won by two points. Maybe lights out now with a smile.