Middle of the week

It was Hairdo Day again for my mom. She enjoys getting her hair washed, trimmed and styled, then going to the supermarket to watch the scene while I shop. Sometimes we hit part of the nearby high school's lunch hour, which she thinks is wonderful to observe. I'd prefer to avoid them altogether, since they're often rude and thoughtless and obnoxious, with a handful of thoughtful exceptions. Mother seems to be fascinated with their sartorial bizarrities in particular.
Another enjoyable climbing workout, with yet more new problems to ascend. I made a small effort to get two male acquaintances a little older than I am to get together for a workout, but they were weirdly prickly to each other. Of course the same kind of thing can happen between women, but I'm far more familiar with women's behavorial oddities than men's. These two guys seemed to instantly try to one up each other, and at one point, I walked off and left them alone to see what would happen. They seemed to start communicating.
Started a new novel, "Ghostwritten" by David Mitchell, author also of "Number 9 Dream" and "Cloud Atlas." I'm still journeying through Portugal with Senor Saramago, but I can't go for too long without fiction.