Seeing Daylight

I can't remember the last time I woke up to see daylight instead of pitch-black darkness.  The extra hours of sleep felt good, but I've lost half the day.  Oh well.

Once upon a time there were door-to-door salesmen, itinerant preachers, and circuit-riding judges.  We out here in the boonies are so lucky that Candy, who once had a small salon in Somerset, now does house calls to cut hair.  She lines up her appointments and makes the rounds, and yesterday we were on the list.  "We" was Arden, Camille, and myself.  Unfortunately, Arden had car trouble and couldn't get out of her driveway, but Cam, Candy, and I had a most enjoyable afternoon out on the deck and getting trimmed up.  In addition to being a great hairdresser, Candy is good company.

Today, like it or not, I must finish cutting up pears.  Nearing the bottom of the box, I'm at least beginning to see daylight.  I'm feeling about pears as I felt about tomatoes.  Enough is too much, and I must start showing restraint in these ventures.  Or not.