Sunday. Lights out just after eight. I was tired and so to sleep not all that long after to awaken then before six, but after a pretty good night's sleep. Listened to a talk on the earth's ice caps on the radio (they're melting) as I took my time getting up and getting ready to drive to breakfast, thinking it would be overcast on the drive, but turned out it wasn't. Should have brought the sun glasses for the drive back.

Arrived at two minutes after seven, the café dark, but figured it might be open as the kitchen worker I often follow in usually arrives before seven and it turned out it was. Open. So, turn on the dining room light and begin reading the news.

The two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, country potatoes, toast and coffee for breakfast, wading through the papers and finishing up at nine. A story on the block party they'd held on Washington Street yesterday afternoon. Twelve hundred people had attended. There'd been free food and a concert by what I'm assuming was a local band (I could have been wrong) and Yo-Yo Ma. Yo-Yo Ma at a small street party just down the way with free food and only twelve hundred people showed up? I'd read it was happening yesterday morning and thought once or twice about going, but didn't quite believe the story and, as I may have mentioned, I was in no mood or shape to head out. Ah, well.

An easy drive straight home, sun glasses or not, no more than one or two thoughts about going by the supermarket. We can survive another week without going by the supermarket.

The Folsom Street Fair later in San Francisco. I suspect, well, I more than suspect I won't go, skip the opportunity to take exotic pictures. I'm guessing my ambition to take pictures, exotic or otherwise, now depends on how far I have to travel to take them. I shot the first Folsom Street Fair in 2011 and I haven't missed one until now.

Later. Watched the final episode of Mr. Sunshine through the late morning. The usual story elements are present, but in a combination I haven't seen before. A Netflix original production, done in Korea. Maybe what is an odd combination of smarmy boy meets girl gun/sword battles, at least to me, is more common there. Not complaining, I watched all twenty-four hour and forty minute episodes and so something must have been working.

A bus at one to the Broadway ATM, having enough time before the return bus arrived to take the usual three pictures at the construction sites. Not sure there's enough difference in them from week to week to be worth the effort, but it does keep me entertained and mildly active.

Evening. Nothing on television and so watched more Silk episodes on the tablet, lights out by nine again. There's a couple of political talk shows on NPR that start at nine, but didn't quite last through the first half hour program before flaking out and turning off the radio.