The rain held off the Easter Parades here, and the weather was quite pleasant.

   All of my brood were on their feet for the occasion, but each was suffering from his own ill.  Among my immediate group, Son Guy was struggling out of a cold and his bronchitis.  Son Jason was shaky on his feet when he came along to watch the SF Giants on our big TV set.  And of course, I was moving slowly, for sure. Even Don Draper on MAD MEN was down with a cold, which encouraged his tightly controlled, self-hating, homicidal bipolar nature some leeway, at least in his dreams.

  THE BORGIAS (premiering tonight) held a merry celebration, while intrigue seethed below the  surface.  Rodrigo and his family are going to outdo themselves this season.

  I'm not a conventinally religious person, but I hope that any who read here had a good observance.

   I spent much of the day setting up a new regimen, one that will me eating three small, health meals a day, and taking a nap in midafternoon.  It worked out pretty well. Now, I just have to keep at it.  I shouldn't have too much difficulty.  I've given up so much, a little more won't hurt.

  Even Bud E. Pup, who arrived late in the evening, was feeling poorly.  He not only has a broken leg but appears depressed about his neutering, a requirement of the City and County of San Francisco.

  Macresarf1 would write no more this day.