1. I find a Dashiell Hammett novel serialised on the radio. I like it so much that I briefly consider Dashiell as a middle name.
2. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and I go down to scope out the ukulele night at The High Brooms Tavern. I'm writing about it, but I asked the shadowy one along because I know he likes the odd twang. He's too shy to play this time, but the group is incredibly friendly and accommodating that he feels confident enough to try next time. I was amazed at the mixture of people -- all ages, really -- coming together to make music.
3. The sky is dark -- it's almost 10pm -- but away down our road, across the valley beyond, there is a gleam of sunset pink along the hills.