Actually, after a long nap yesterday, Rich found he couldn't sleep past 9 this morning. This whole thing is going to take some getting used to. I don't think I ever actually believed I would be married to a retiree. We're YOUNG! We're VITAL! We're going to CHANGE THE WORLD! It may take a little while to adjust to reality, here.

I was discussing reality with Monica, the DINK (double income, no kids). When we'd been married as long as she has, we'd lived in New Mexico, Illinois, and Florida, and I was in Wyoming expecting my second baby any minute (and hating my obstetrician) and Rich was in VietNam. I admit, I'm jealous of her, sometimes. On the other hand, she says she envies our travelling, and had hoped to live outside the US for awhile, so I guess the grass is greener on both sides of the fence.

Last night I celebrated by taking us out to dinner at a fancy place near here. Rich has gone before, but I've never been there. I had salmon Monterey (shrimps, avocado) and Bernadette had chicken Monterey, and Rich had Polynesian chicken. Dessert was amazing. I had an amaretto cheesecake to die for. (I've GOT to stop saying that!) Major damage to the credit card, but one doesn't retire (I keep saying "graduate") every day.

I got out this morning before 8:00 and took Sailor for a 1.8 mile walk, and it was getting too hot already. (I should really have left at 6, when I woke up.) It was over 80 at 8.* Blech. It's a Spare-the-Air day, surprise, and yet at the other end of the street they are hard at work destroying the street and replacing it, with these huge trucks and their immense pollution. One parked right in front to take the torn-up street. Our own personal smog pocket.
Irritatingly enough, I took bags for Sailor, then stepped in some other dog's leavings in my own yard, just as I was getting home. Grumble.

Bernadette's little jaunt at the dentist cost $266. Ouch, in more ways than one. Then she and I went to see Ever After, which we loved (but the Mona Lisa was painted on wood, she insists.)

I didn't watch Howdy Doody as a kid, though Rich rather resembled the puppet (it was his nickname in college), so losing Buffalo Bob didn't hurt, not like Shari Lewis passing on. I have loved her for 40 years, and I'm sad she died.

*It got to 111.