Yes, I know I am sort of ignoring the power of positive thinking here – big time. No qualifying adjectives, just straight to the complaint. And it’s a declarative sentence, not a drawn-out whine.

I’m not sick. I’m just psychologically and physically pooped and just awake from a short little morning nap. I am minutes away from that groggy wandering back into consciousness that practically requires a compass  – or GPS – to orient yourself to the time of day. I’m going for the “Grandma Shower” therapy – get wet, get soaped, get rinsed and get out.

All right. Now I feel Oh, not so bad. Faced with a developing storm system outside, I ran, RAN, the moment I finished that last sentence in the above paragraph and followed the procedure, adding the step I had forgotten to mention: take off clothes. I have now put clean clothes on, including socks and shoes, actually used anti-perspirant and have my hair combed.

The fact that I am writing such stuff instead of something along the line of getting ready for a power meeting involving millions of dollars or my work on  Nobel Prize winning scientific research is a little telling, but it’s better than the absolute pits. Perhaps not by much, but I’m not going to dwell on that.

I have de-grogged myself, and in the process, believe I may have set a new record for the “Grandma Shower.”

It is threatening to storm outside, but I think it is going to just threaten for a couple of hours and then, finally, maybe, possibly come on to thunder and rain. Fortunately, I mowed the front lawn last night. Yes! That is done . . . for a few days. Summer and I planted some tomatoes and hostas and Shane, who loves to dig holes, dig not help, but managed to get in the way and wound up covered with dirt. Summer and Shane had a little spray fest while watering the plantlings and he had to be rubbed down with a bathrobe before coming back in. She did it and they ended up stretched out on the porch floor in a position that Shane interpreted as hugging and getting attention and Summer saw as mummifying the dog that is forever a puppy.

I should have taken a picture, but there’s one in my memory now and I think I’m lucky to have so many such memories that I don’t need a camera to document them as unusual occurrences in my life.