Nora Roberts's Travelogue of Ireland:
Day of Rest—8/29/04
BW is feeling under the weather so we have a day at home. While he has breakfast I work out, have a swim—lots of little guys in the pool this morning—and meet three-week-old Zoe. She's a beauty.
Buster is the only horse in the stables today—the others must be out for a ride. He looks perkier today, maybe because he's munching fresh hay. And he sticks he head out so I can give him a rub.
I've time for a little housekeeping, so get all my Tax back forms organized, and we gather up the laundry we want done. Then BW goes over for a swim and massage, and I take a couple hours to write. It feels good.
It's another pretty day, which gives me a chance to sit on the terrace a bit and listen to the water.
We both have a nap, watch some Olympics, then order a really lovely dinner up to the room. Have the fire lit. I haven't watched the closing ceremonies in years, and they were certainly a show. It's nice to hear both the Brit and Irish commentators pick Michael Phelps as the athlete of the games. Not just for his skills and medals, but for his charm and his sportsmanship.
The fire goes out, and so do we.
It's sunny this morning. BW seems to be feeling better. Hopefully, we'll get out and enjoy the day. Certainly we're rested enough for it.
Nora
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