It has been an altogether pleasant day. I slept in, made me half a pot of coffee, and drank it quite leisurely, with my sweet dog at my side. So very much at my side, in fact, that I’m thinking of changing his name to Barnacle. I could call him Barney for short. Then I decided to clean the winter gunk from my patio table and dine alfresco. It was late for breakfast, but I wasn’t having a Bloody Mary, so I hesitate to call it brunch. Food just tastes better outside. I don’t care if it’s just a bologna sandwich, or peanut butter and crackers, there’s just something about the sun on your face and the wind in your hair. I watched a woodpecker sail right into the hole in the dead tree and clouds puff across the robins-egg-blue sky. I watched all the cars race by, people on an important mission to do things they probably didn’t even want to do. People who would probably be bored to death sitting on a porch watching woodpeckers and eating biscuits with their dog glued to their side. I wasn’t bored, but I was procrastinating. Saturday is housework day. But I got everything vacuumed and dusted and swept and scrubbed. I did not strike a lick at laundry or cleaning my furniture, as is my custom on time change weekends. Yes, I am aware I’m a week late on the time…