Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Eight Days a Week

Isn't that an old Beatles' song?

Yeah, well, I'm afraid eight days of hangin' out in the fridge is too long for my roasted peppers.  I hesitate to unwrap and even look at them.  Sad to say, it's into the garbage disposal with the roasted red peppers.  (Hey, at least I learned how to roast them.  It's not a total loss!)

See?  That's another thing about cooking.  You have to cook the dang food you bring home fairly quickly, whether you are in the mood for it or not (and by "it", I mean not only the cooking, but that particular food).  And whether your social plans allow for dinner at home or not.  I can't commit to that.  I'm a "P" on the Myers-Briggs, for gosh sakes.

Schedule?  Schedule?  We don't want no stinkin' schedule!

Sick in the Sun

Ever notice how a cold doesn't feel quite so bad when you can sit in the sun?  That was me today.

Have a bit of congestion, a cough, and general blahs.  Not so bad to keep me in bed;  in fact, one of my snowbird friends this morning suggested I sit in the sun a while to feel better.  Knowing how nice that sun feels on the face of a sniffles victim, I acquiesced.

So I packed my new mini-backpack (bought at the Goodwill for $3.99) with Benadryl and water, my phone and camera, Kleenex, hand wipes, and Discman and CD's (I know, I'm out of music IPod).

And here I sat for an hour and a half.

With my little one-webfooted friend:

Watching those who braved the 60F to feel some solar warmth on a few unexposed skin areas:

Although colors aren't as spectacular in the photos as they are in real life, the ocean was vivid green-blue.....

After a while, one of my new friends spotted me on the beach and came over with her granddaughter:

But in that cool, damp wind (10-13mph), even the sun couldn't lessen my cold symptoms, so I cancelled my happy hour with the snowbirds in favor of this:

It's only 4:38PM, but I can't keep my eyes open.  Thanks to the Benadryl.  So I think I need to nap.  Nighty night.