The best-laid plans

When my husband returned from an errand yesterday at about noon, I still hadn't worked out. I was kind of waiting for him to come home so we could walk together. He took one look at me and said,

"You look like you could use a day off. Let's get away from here for the rest of the day. We can take care of some things in Blacksburg and have dinner out. It'll do you good."

I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I'm not one to argue with not cooking dinner. No workout at all yesterday, but I was able to stick to the meat-and-salad plan at the restaurant. Not that it was easy, but I did it!

He brought home a couple pieces of memorabilia last week – a Chinese scroll given to his father in China during World War II and a certificate of appreciation from Franklin D. Roosevelt to his grandfather – that we wanted framed. We went to Michael's, chose matting and frames, paid a small fortune (but it's totally worth it to preserve these pieces of family history) and then went to JoAnn Fabrics.

These are not places my husband would normally ever enter unaccompanied. I could have spent hours in each of them, but I didn't think he was quite that patient. Besides, the pieces we left at Michael's have to be picked up. That will be a solo trip, for sure.

He kept checking on me, especially on the way home, saying he thought I seemed happier, in a better mood, not so down in the dumps. Maybe it's just January weighing down on me, although anyone who complains about this January is just a curmudgeon. This is the mildest winter I can remember in the 15 years I've lived here. (Apologies if you are getting slammed by ice and snow this weekend.)

Or maybe it's that after that six-pound drop between January 1 and January 13, the weight loss has stopped. Completely.

I'm definitely out of the honeymoon, pink-cloud stage and have moved on to the why-bother stage. Except I'm still bothering. I'm not going to throw it all out the window yet.

But I sure would like a spoonful of sunshine in a jar.