It is slightly disheartening that according to my counter there is a very limited ... Well, to be honest. an absolute lack of activity on my blog. Maybe I'll take to walking the streets with a sandwhich board promoting Naked ... You know I really thought people would take the bait with my title. But evidently, the word "Naked" has seen its hayday ... Regardless, this blog will plug on with or without a reading audience. It will be depressing but I've got broad shoulders, I can handle it ... (Note - I don't actually have broad shoulders, I just like that saying.)

I forgot to mention how well the minor child's sleepover went the other night. It was complete torture! OK, I may be being a tad bit overdramatic here. Actually, it wasn't all that bad. I ended up setting up my pop tent in KC's room and the girls had a campout complete with dinner and a movie. Considering how late they stayed up, I thought I was in the free and clear for sleeping in on Saturday morning.

I couldn't have been more wrong. They were up before the sun even had a chance to rise. 6 a.m. and all I could hear was the pitter patter of two sets of little feet outside my bedroom door. Which would have been all well and good, if it hadn't been accompanied by the loudest whispering I have ever heard. (An oxymoron to be sure.) I did my best to ignore them as long as possible but it wasn't to be. Little stomachs were growling and in need of breakfast.

So grumbling all the way down the stairs, my eyes barely open I made my way to the kitchen where I found much to my chagrin that, "Damn!" I was out of cereal. So there I was at 6 something in the morning, making angel pancakes for the little darlings as they lay snug as a bug in the living room, giggling over cartoons. How could I not be a little envious, especially when I was stuck out in the kitchen cooking, wishing to be back in bed?

But the day couldn't last forever and sooner that it seemed, Jan's father came to retrieve her. The good news was she had a great visit, the bad news is ... She wants to come over again. At this rate, it looks as if sleeping in on the weekends could soon become a thing of the past.

Sleep was her fetish, panacea and art. ~ Mary Webb, Gone to Earth (1917)