Wayne and I are taking this week off to play and relax with friends and visit the Florida Keys.  We will be sampling the local margaritas and sponge cake and singing along with Jimmy Buffett.  I’ll be back at work next Monday, but in the meantime I’m soaking up the sunshine and the laughter.

I’m feeling better, which means the whining is down to a tolerable level.  The simple fact is I don’t like being sick.  I’ve got places to go, people to meet, books to write, and I need my body to keep up with me. 

On the bright side, I’m nearly finished with the poncho I’m knitting for my granddaughter, Bailey, so this down time wasn’t wasted.  Plus, I watched a number of movies on DVD and came up with a wonderful idea for my Christmas book in 2009.  Now that I think about it, being laid up for a couple of days wasn’t so bad after all.  I’m reenergized!

Remember how I complained about what a big baby my husband is when he’s sick?  Well, guess what?  Those words are coming back to taunt me.  I’ve caught a wretched cold and am miserable.  I have places to go, people to meet, and all my plans are crumbling at my feet.  I slept nine hours Sunday night and took a three-hour nap Monday afternoon.  I had chicken noodle soup for lunch and again for dinner.  I woke up feeling crummy again today.  No fair.  That sound you hear is me whining and stamping my foot.  You know, I just might be a cry baby, too.

Today we celebrate Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday.  I imagine there’s a party going on up in heaven for him and for all he represented.  I was a teenager during the race riots of the 1960s, but it wasn’t until I was a wife and mother that I came to appreciate Dr. King and his message.  Yesterday Wayne and I sat in church with both blacks and whites, in a church that as little as fifty years ago was segregated.  Thanks to Dr. King, we now sit side by side and worship God together as brothers and sisters. 

My day got off to a shaky start.  I woke up at three this morning, wide-eyed and raring to go.  Don’t you just hate it when that happens? 

I did manage to go back to sleep, and when I got up I held firm to my resolve to exercise, so I used the exercise bike for a time.  That energized me so much I sat down at my computer and finished my current work in progress, A CEDAR COVE CHRISTMAS.   Yup, the book is done (with the exception of revisions and edits, of course).  It's party time, although it's probably going to be an early night for this tired puppy.

I’m having a rough time getting back into my exercise regimen.  Wayne and I landed in Florida with wretched colds, my walking partner got sick, and soon it was two weeks into the New Year with zero, zilch exercise.  A funny thing happens to me when I don’t exercise:  I get sluggish and tired and—okay, I’ll admit it—cranky.  It’s just so easy to put it off. 

Well, I broke the ice yesterday and rode a stationary bike for twenty minutes.  It about killed me, but I felt worlds better afterwards.  There’s a good lesson in this for me.  Just do it.  Don’t rationalize, don’t procrastinate, don’t make excuses.  Just get those legs pumping and do it. 

Thank you to all those Green Bay Packer fans who sent me sympathy notes regarding the Seahawks loss this weekend.  It was a sad game for Seattle.  Wayne didn’t deal with it well at all.  I went in to check on him about halfway through the game, and he was—I swear I’m not making this up—watching it with the sound muted.  He couldn’t bear to listen to them lose and at the same time felt obliged to watch.  And they say women are complicated beings.

Ah, Friday, the end of the work week.  Wayne and I have lazy plans for the weekend.  On Saturday I’m going to an antique fair and spend my Christmas money.  This is the fourth year in a row that I’ve been to this fair.  Last year I purchased one of my favorite cameos there.  Wayne has his entire weekend planned around watching the Seahawks game, but I imagine I’ll lure him down to walk on the beach.  I hope your weekend is a relaxing one, too.