At a Loss for an Appropriate Title

We didn't walk today.  I guess we could walk tomorrow.  But apparently nobody wanted to walk today.  Including us.

At 11am I looked at Howard and pointed out the time.  We both laughed and walked off in separate directions.  He to his weekend ritual of coffee, reading and writing in Dunkin' Donuts.  Me to my weekend ritual down in the laundry room where all by myself I removed the furniture, ripped out the old rug, and laid down colorful puzzle-fitting foam tiles. (I'll bet you thought I was going down to do the laundry!)  Well, this isn't really my regular weekend ritual but I've been thinking about it every weekend for 18 years since we moved in here.  When I came up for air four hours later for a late lunch and barely able to move, it was with a feeling of great satisfaction (and a bit of pain). 

Like this

Those of you DIYers will understand the exhiliaration of taking a dreadful old rug and watching it turn into a more dreadful bare gray floor before blossoming into a colorful canvas, not unlike a caterpillar into a butterfly.  Well, I may be pushing it, but you know what I mean.

So how did the rest of you spend this frigid cold day?  Sophia and her friends were planning on ice skating on Frog Pond but they quickly chickened out.  Probably wasn't the best day for a walk to Parker Hill Ave either (there, we're off the hook.) Though I must say that while working downstairs earlier my scarf, sweatshirt, and thermal shirt were shed one layer at a time.  I did stop at my tank top, though.  (TMI, I know.)

Seems like I'd better quit while I'm ahead here.  Let's walk together in our dreams tomorrow and regroup in reality next week.  And let's drum up some enthusiasm, please.  I can't do this on my own, apparently, I need my team by my side.  Enjoy the rest of the long weekend; thank you Dr. King for so much more than just a day off.


;)