Another weekend lost to wine. I drank several bottles, now I am eager to scratch my way back up the hill towards the cross of Christ. There are signs everywhere that God is out to love me. He has commanded me to be happy most of all, says CS. Or, maybe he was quoting somebody else. Yes, that makes much more sense.
I am trying to figure out what the boy and I will do for the first half of his Spring Break. We have tossed around the idea of flying to Vegas, to drive, to the Grand Canyon, to do a helicopter tour over the mile-deep gorge. I like this idea, but it is expensive and we will be a little bit rushed. We also discussed just driving the coastline here for a day, with the dog, to get some seafood at our favorite place along the coast: Nick's Cove. I have written about it before here. Oysters are less expensive than helicopter tours of one of the most famous land formations in the world.
Nothing more to report. Mondays are flat in all directions.
(This post was so boring, I forgot to post it yesterday.)
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