perking up . . .

In the middle of the night, when I wake . . . my brains going round and around . . . and no one else in the house is up, I love logging on and finding my fellow insomniacs. Not that we exactly solve the world's woes but a little conversation about cats or kids is a good thing. Thanks Marg!

So today I am, of course, pooped. Grumpy. Testy. Just plain mean. And the 9TS wants to run up the interstate to some flower and garden show he saw advertised in the paper. Not my first choice of things to do. I was sort of eying my bed . . . or one of the pool chaise lounges . . . or the sofa . . . you get my drift.

But the truth is, the 9TS is a good man. And if he wants to go to some botanical bonanza, then that is what we'll do. We followed the Mapquest directions . . . got lost but once. The show turned out to be less than stellar. More like a garden club exhibit in a parking lot. I was way beyond grumpy.

But nothing and I mean nothing rejuvenates like a drive down the coast. Except maybe to pull off at our favorite little fish joint and chug a couple of cold ones. I was decidedly less miserable. The 9TS slurped a dozen oysters. While they are not exactly my thing, sitting on a deck cantilevered over the beach, surrounded by the aroma of fresh seafood, hush puppies and salt air . . . . . now that folks, is stellar.