I am taking a vacation day, since my daughter is in town for an extended weekend. I feel slightly guilty about the vacation day. I mean, here it is, not a holiday or anything; it's an ordinary everyday Monday day and I'm lazily lolling around, reading and doing desultory housework. I heard the bell ring for the start of school (the school is across the street) and I thought vaguely I ought to be up and doing something useful.

Now that I think about it, it's perfectly clear. I've been answering the alarm clock and the requirement to go to work to support myself and my family since I was 16. I worked my way through college (two jobs) and except for my 2 years in the Peace Corps I've been employed steadily since. The alarm goes off and I leap (crawl, stagger) into action as I have for over 40 years now. No wonder I feel faintly guilty.

However, a bit of guilt and a smidgen of laziness never obscure the lure of a good book. Jenny and I are going out to breakfast and then I'm back into The Wisdom of Crowds by James (wait till I get the book so I can get his last name) Surowiecki. Also reading a collection of science fiction short stories called The Good Old Stuff. It's adventure and space opera from the 50's, 60's and 70's at its best. [I've seen an apostrophe in "its best" so many times now I almost did it myself.]

Guess if we're going out to breakfast I'd best put on some outdoor-going type clothes. Later, y'all.