The best thing about having a routine is breaking it. This adds a thrill of naughtiness to the most innocent escapes.
Monday morning began with clear skies and unusually cool temperatures in the 60s. I put the top down on the Miata and drove 30 miles west to talk with DF. All the morning traffic was coming into town, people dragging themselves in to begin their working week. Why repress a smirk, the sense of smug pleasure to be heading out, to do nothing but sit and talk and drink tea and listen to the horses munch their morning hay?