Anyway, to bed before ten, awake ten minutes before the alarm in reasonably good shape, the blood pressure back to where it should be (now: how to vary the damn meds to keep it in line?) and off to breakfast on an overcast morning, the weather people saying sun later with a high in Oakland of sixty-eight. Sixty-eight, twenty degrees Centigrade. Close to perfect.

Nothing much on the plate. I have a primary ballot to finish and mail (after I check if it's OK to mail it the day before the election, otherwise we may visit a polling place on Tuesday for the first time in many years) and that's about it. A picture or two, but where, when and why? We'll work it out later. Later. As later as we can be if we are honest about it.

Later. A walk to the lake passing by the Capoeira dancers, taking one or two not very inspiring pictures, on then to Lakeshore, thinking maybe coffee out in front of the bagel shop, but finding all the tables filled and so back along Lakeshore to stick my head into the ice cream shop where there was a line. OK, we'll see what's happening at the old drive-in just down the street, try one of their strawberry shortcakes for the first time.

Which I did. OK shortcake, no complaints, sitting out at a table where a pigeon landed nearby and then sat waiting to see if I was someone who left crumbs. I'd finished the shortcake, there weren't any crumbs. A walk on by the theater to see when Godzilla was playing, the two projector 3D version (they make a big deal about their “two projector” 3D being better), but it wasn't playing until later and so on home.

I've been thinking about seeing Godzilla since it came to the Grand Lake theater, more remembering those first versions that were released when I saw them as a youngster than any thoughts this one would rock my socks. I'm not much into the superhero/mad monster stuff, never quite was, although I liked Robert Downey's Iron Man flicks. His first one, anyway. I think I skipped his last.

So we'll sit here thinking about going somewhere: mountains to be climbed, pictures to take. I know full well I could find new ways to take street photographs at places other than festivals and parades. At least my version of “street photographs”, candid portraits. Maybe broaden my vision and graduate to the real thing: two or more people interacting in clever, cute and/or interesting ways. Radical thoughts for a weekend I'd think.

Later still. A bus downtown to sit out at a table at Peet's with a scone and coffee. I was walking out the door, knowing from the smartphone app as I was leaving that a bus was due at my stop in two minutes. Would it come before I arrived at the stop? I figured I'd let the Fates decide and so didn't hurry, didn't lag, just walked right up to the stop as the bus door opened to let me inside. And that was that.

And not a single picture for the trip. Still, no complaints, no upsets, just me having trouble thinking of ways to get me outside. If I didn't become antsy now and again, if there weren't events to photograph, I'd become (even more of) a hermit (with an Internet connection ).

Evening. All the various public television stations are raising money at the moment and my interest in old rock and roll shows, change your life seminars and six ways to prepare broccoli presentations is to say the least limited. Which means no television this evening.

Guitar, Netflix (going back and forth between various movies I've started and then stopped, started and then stopped) and to bed early? I might. There are magazine articles I tell myself I should finish that are sitting half read by the bed, gathering dust and disappearing under new magazines as they arrive. I do look first thing through all the cartoons in the New Yorkers though.

Sounds about right.

It does, does it not?