Waiting for sun

Almost warm enough to go out for a walk. When we did get out, my mother as usual looked at every plane that flew over, waving to the smaller ones. By gum, one of the seaplanes headed for Lake Union actually tipped his wing to her! They were flying pretty low over Meridian Avenue, and she stood there waving both arms energetically, in her bright blue raincoat. The pilot clearly saw her, and rewarded her persistence.
Seems to be the dying season for old power-abusing men. Unfortunately they have plentiful accolytes, not-quite-as-old power-abusing men.
Hying me to bed with Moby Dick and the journey round Portugal, which I haven't quite finished. There's more whale decimation in store, I know, so I have to have a neutral book in which to ditch out. Don't want nightmare fodder right before I go to sleep...