This just frosts my cake; I hate cloudy days without rain. If it's going to be cloudy and rainy, fine, but don't send the clouds and then forget the rain, just don't, okay? I'm determined to sit most of the day and give my knee a rest. I'm still gimping around and it's still aching when I have to walk around, like at work. It's annoying and I'm ready to be done with it. Sorry for the bitch-fest, it's not one of my better days. If I were Durwood, I'd make an excuse to leave for a few hours.
April 12--French Polynesia. The Tia Moana was the waterborne version of a motorcoach. Jean and Sheila had gone to see the Grand Canyon on a coach tour and they had visited eight European countries in sixteen days, so they were not novices in the world of the guided vacation. Neither of them wanted the hassle of making flight plans and hotel reservations. there was too much left to chance when you weren't familiar with the local restaurants. You could get into a rut and end up eating the same things day after day in a string of national chains. Taking this cruise through French Polynesia on a small cruise boat, one with only thirty cabins, had been Sheila's idea. She had always admired Gauguin's paintings and jumped at the chance to see the places he saw with her own eyes. It was sheer luck that there were two nice retired professors, one of botany and the other history, to keep them informed and entertained. It didn't hurt that both of the men were good-looking and charming either. Jean suspected they might be gay, but she hadn't said anything to Sheila just yet.
Hm, hm, hm. D'ya think the men are gay? Or are they senior citizen con men? Which would be more fun? Time will tell.