Monday

This morning I woke up next to a wonderful dog and thought it was the weekend. But what is the weekend? Traditionally I guess it is the two days that break the week apart and allow one to spend time with friends and family and recharge for the upcoming week. That concept is foreign to me, as my schedule is anything but predictable and regimented. But I actually found that when my life was broken into weekly segments and routines, it went by much more quickly versus my current schedule of having no set schedule.

But it was a good weekend, albeit interspersed with work and meetings. And yesterday I drove my little truck, so it was interesting to see all the out-of-town people visiting Bellingham to spend their tourist dollars - both declining U.S. dollars and its at-parity Canadian counterpart - once again remembering that I live in a quaint little seaside town that is a very desirable destination for traveling families, students and retirees participating in the abounding outdoor activities. Unfortunately for those seeking sun, this was a cloudy, chilly weekend.

A busy few days ahead, with the sun peeking through this morning. And it saddened me to hear that the owner of the Chuckanut Ridge Wine Company passed away this morning after sustaining a head injury last week and a freak accident. I met him a few times and he was always pleasant and upbeat. Life is so fragile.