Voting

By 9 a.m. Friday, I had accomplished two of the tasks on the day’s list: seeing my dermatologist, and voting absentee.

And I had breakfast in between at Southwest Diner.

The dermatologist visit brought met the usual expectations: pre-cancerous spots on my scalp, all frozen off with his canister of liquid nitrogen.

And at the Board of Election Commissioners, I was reminded again how I’m slowly losing my hearing. I do find myself more and more often raising my hand to cup my ear as I ask a masked person to repeat themself. So it was there, twice.

This view never gets old:

Market, before turning north on Tucker, looking east toward the Arch, the Civil Courts building to the left, and the U.S. Courthouse to the right.