I woke up with a bad case of the lazies this morning. There was nothing I could do about it; I had made dough for a batch of bagel the night before, so I had to shape, boil, and bake them. Then we watched a couple of episodes of "Top Gear," the original British show. I didn't watch the whole marathon; I missed the Kite Festival in Longbeach, WA last year, and wanted to catch it this year.

The kite festival was nice, but no big deal, since we're not involved in the kiting community. There were a lot of sales booths, and food booths, as you'd expect at a county fair. Since the kite festival is a big draw, we had to park several blocks away. We got a lot of exercise.

Once we got home, I found hundreds (literally) of tweets waiting for me. Ghadaffi had been killed, no, he had been arrested, no, no one knew whether the was still in Libya or not. Boy, turn my back for a minute and a revolution breaks out. As I write now, several hours later, things are still insecure. It is widely assumed that the revolution has been successful, and Ghadaffi is no longer in power, but there has been neither surrender nor cessation of hostilities. The dancing in the streets that started several hours ago may have been premature.