Who knows what dreams portend?

For about three hours last night I kept dreaming that DH and I would go somewhere and I would get lost without him. Or I would fall off a cliff. Or the car would go off a bridge. Wake and dream, wake and dream. What was all that about? Sometimes, dreams are just throwing out the garbage. Sometimes, they're my subconscious trying to tell me something.

This morning, we got up just before sunrise and drove to the mall to get some exercise. (Yes, we are among the codgers who mall-walk.) There were high cirrus clouds overhead like a drift of rose-colored lace, and the air was so perfectly September-crisp. Three circuits of the inside of the mall is just under two miles. Then out to Sully's for breakfast, and I could take on tigers all day long.

We are headed to the Home Remodeling show to shop for idea. DH has just finished mowing the lawn, I have done laundry and basic tidy-up, and now we can go play! A little exercise really gets the day to a good start.

This daddy picks up his five-year-old daughter at kindrgarten and as they're driving home she asks him, "Daddy, where does poo come from?"

Being the kind of guy who believes that every question deserves a complete answer he explains how the oatmeal they had for breakfast goes into their tummies and their bodies take out all the good parts and then push all the bad parts out into the toilet. "So that's where poo comes from." he finishes.

There is dead silence from the kiddy seat in the back for several long seconds, then the little voice asks, "What about Tigger?"