“I don’t feel old. I don’t feel anything until noon. Then it’s time for my nap.” Bob Hope

Boy, I wish I could nap.

I watch my guy on a soft slow Saturday afternoon, slumped on the large armchair in front of the window. If his eyes were open, he’d survey the soft fluffy clouds floating over the azure blue waters, and he’d note the gentle movement of the white sailboats as they lazed across the Bay.

But his head is leaned back and his mouth is open, releasing a sonorous hum of a snore every 30 seconds. Continue reading →