Mornings

I am NOT a morning person, never have been, and never will be one most likely. It's a shame, because the mornings are always pleasant, crisp and usually clear, even in the California smog areas. Angela, on the other hand, IS a morning person. Thank heavens!

Angela is the one who takes the dogs on their morning walk when we are RVing. Yeah, she putters around the first fifteen minutes, but once she's up and going, there is no stopping her. She has the dogs on their three-way leash and is out the door. They're gone anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes just soaking up the early rays of the sun and checking out all the fresh smells of the morning. When we're RVing up in wilds, there are lots of animal smells for the dogs to catch up. She usually gets a paper too. We aren't the type that turns on the TV, so we get our news from the morning newspaper 99% of the time. Yes, we occasionally catch a network news show if there is something going on - like 9-11, the economic mess we are in, or an issue (like Prop 8) that we are particularly interested in watching how it's progressing.

This morning, things got bollixed up. I'm the night person who takes the pups out for the 2 a.m. or 4 a.m. potty call. THIS morning, they woke; I stumbled out of bed and slipped on my blue jeans and jacket; I managed to get at least one eye open so I could get them on their leash, and out we went. Ten minutes later, we were back inside. I peered at the clock face and realized it was two minutes to 6 a.m. Dast, oh dear! Our alarm was set to go off at 6 a.m., so I'd let a perfectly good Angela-take-the-dogs-out opportunity go by. Horrors!

So, yep, this is another Best Thing About Being Married to a Transsexual, only this morning, I missed it.