Saturday. Lights out last night at ten, up with the alarm, again without effort, the head reasonably clear, the sinus-upper palate behaving, the sky clear, a nice day outside. Not unlike yesterday's start. My, my.
Off to breakfast thinking: ”now was that gas price I'm seeing across the street the same as it was yesterday or has there been a change?” Best to take a picture and be sure. Thought it was (and it was), but another less than sharp memory demonstration, albeit not particularly over the top or disturbing.
No thought to go by the supermarket as I was leaving, maybe tomorrow (always tomorrow), back at the apartment now with the sun out and another Saturday ahead. There's something happening at Mosswood Park later, maybe some pictures? A bus, don't feel like driving, although driving would be the better solution.
Still not sure why so sour on driving since the actual driving itself is straightforward, no fuss, no bother. It's getting me into the car. There's evidently more than memory to deal with as we get older.
I'm continually surprised. At least that makes it interesting.
Later. A walk over to the lake taking a snapshot or two as I was walking. This is a path I've taken and photographed a thousand times, true, but I should still be watching for pictures (else why the camera?) Well, I was looking, just not pushing that hard. I think about this as often as not. Pretty exciting stuff on a weekend.
On by the lake and then through the farmers market, no pictures - lots and lots of people, though, the line at the roasted chicken truck as long as I've seen it. On to the ice cream shop for two scoops in a cup because I couldn't think of anything else I might want, then on along to the ATM on Lakeshore since I was nearby and it would save a trip on Tuesday.
I'd been keeping an eye on the time, thinking I might catch a bus to Broadway and then another to the park, but time and bus failed to collide. And I suspect I would have bailed if they had. So ambition zero other than thinking about a WordPress web project after reading more of the book, but so far thinking without starting.
Later still. And so, a sunny late afternoon, what to do? We watch a Netflix movie on the tablet lying on the bed. Very restful. A 2003 Zatoichi film, one I haven't seen before, different and ultimately I think inferior to what I remember from the earlier films, but interesting enough to see how it ended.
Evening. Nothing on television, nothing particularly on the mind, some futzing with old photographs (I could spend a lifetime fixing problems with some of the old web photographs if I ever found myself totally apartment bound) and then to bed to curl up with the tablet in what has turned out to be our not so slow entry into the 21st Century Cyborgian Age.