I rolled over this morning, hip popping and ears attuned to the racket down the stairs. A rousing game of Clue - I grab my alarm clock for verification - was underway at 6:08 am.
Beds were made; giggling and murderous accusations were being tossed across the kitchen table.
I headed for my coffee pot and prayed for that kind of energy. I pretty sure it doesn't come in a cup.
I woke up groggy after a busy weekend. We visited with Greg's mom at the fairgrounds Saturday; she was showing a couple of llamas from their herd and showcasing some of her yarn and felted hats.
Our realtor booted us out yesterday for another open house. No offers were made, but at least we had some visitors that gave us some feedback.
(I hate washing windows for nothing.)
And if the market wasn't tanking - as I type - I would feel mighty cheery right now. At least productive.
I'm stepping onto my porch and taking a media breather - I've been yelling at the radio and TV far too much this week - to soak by some vitamin D.
By the cup or by the ray, I'm trying to talk myself out of the blues.