I think I am still tired from Saturday.

Hubband surprised me a bit. As instructed,I went online to develop "a plan" for our weekend of nothing to do. I decided upon "historic Marshall" because it seemed to be a place that might have something for everyone. I planned the whole she-bang and was this close to reserving a hotel when I decided to run it by Hubband.

"NO. I refuse to go to Marshall. Don't you know about those Rednecks?"

Seems Marshall had a sports team whose nickname was the Redskins. The sitting city executives voted to change the name as it was not PC. The townfolk then proceed to vote each "yay" vote out of office in the next election and now the name is back to Redskins.

Do I think this is crummy? Yep. (There's a long history of arguments and such regarding the changing of school team names. I won't bore you with it.) I just didn't think it was worth cancelling our plans over. But by that time there was no way in hell I was going to make Hubband go and listen to him complain.

So, instead, I made him go to the giant outlet mall with me! We had lunch, drove for an hour, shopped for four hours and then drove into Frankenmuth for dinner at the Bavarian Inn. We all enjoyed our dinner much, then Hubband found a place to settle in and have beers (in a German tourist trap? imagine!) while the boy played video games. I shopped some more.

Believe it or not, I didn't really buy all that much. I did score a pair of hiking boots at Timberland for $20! Wish I'd had the sense to put them on.

Back on the road, Boy and I were thirsty. Hubband wanted to stop somewhere that would allow us to sit down and he could have beer. I decided I didn't want to sit around and watch him pickle himself. We got a little snippy with each other at the 7-Eleven and then hit the road again.

Apparently this is where Hubband and I switched personalities. I wanted to go home; he wanted to go exploring.

We ended up driving to Chesaning and playing in the river for a couple hours. It was nice (albeit buggy). The water felt cool on my poor ragged feet. When we got there, several locals were fishing from the rocks. I don't think they were catching much. As I was walking back across the bridge to our car, I looked out toward the end of the sandbar. There, the water was silver with the reflection of the night sky. Fish were literally flying out of the riverbed to catch the bugs skittering on the surface of the water. It was beautiful.

We found a place to have an ice cream cone and sat in the dark on the town's Main Street eating them. We could have counted the passing cars on one hand and it was a nice feeling to be sitting there, in the dark, with my family around.

By this time, Hubband had sobered completely and was ready to drive. I took him home through Owosso, which was the big town near the small town I grew up in. He was fascinated by the quaintness of it. Definately a throwback to a "more innocent era".

As we drove back toward the Expressway on 21, Hubband noticed a Meijer 24-hour store. (Hadn't been there the last time I was up around that area.) So we stopped - at 10:30 on Saturday night - and did some shopping. Because he had a list, don't you know.

Then it was finally all about getting home as fast as we could. Driving down the Expressway looking at the stars through the moonroof and smelling the smell of the country that I grew up with. Driving down highways where the darkness was almost palpable. Seeing the fireworks finale over the treetops three towns away because the land was so flat.

It was very relaxing.

Until we got home and Hubband got online to find out the details of the Weaver trade. Then he started screaming and drinking again.

And I went to bed.

Yesterday I swear I would have paid someone to cut my feet off at the ankles. I could do nothing to get myself in a good mood. Nothing.

Now I need to ignore my hormonal imbalance and roust Boy from sleep to start another glorious workday.

Whoo-hoo.