This will be much the same type of day as yesterday.

Saturday morning, awake dizzy again, sore headed.
For the past seven months, no alcohol in any form taken, at all.
That eliminates one likely cause of the symptoms.
No idea at all.
Take a shower, have a cup of coffee.
The son is up, he wants to go to the café, the bakery shop.
So off we go.
He is tall, and thin, and has long red hair.
He attracts glances from many women in the street, see this, wonder about it.
An eccentric fourteen year old who will be fifteen soon.
As always, he is slow making his mind up at the café.
There is an old man there, with a peaked cap, dressed in light summer clothing.
Constantly changing his pose at the high counter whilst he is waiting for his order, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his righ elbow on the counter holding his left hand, then he drops the hand and holds his head, then his left hand on his hip.
He never stays still, constantly changing his pose.
He must be at least seventy.

There is a group of younger men in the bakery store, putting together an order to take outside.

The man in the fruit store opposite is filling the trunk of his car with empty fruit crates. And the owner of the sports articles shop arrives to open up his shop. He has a big Volkswagen van with wide tyres, bodywork covered in matte black foil, with the name of his shop written upon it.
He obliterates the view of his shop with this van, using the private parking spot in front of his entrance.

This will be much the same type of day as yesterday.