I meant to update last night, to keep up with my post-a-day quota, but I had a nap instead. It wasn’t really intentional. I sat down on the bed (which has been doubling as our couch for six months because our bedroom is doubling as our living room) and Mike sat down beside me to read, and before I knew it, I was out, and so was Len, with her head in the arch of my foot.

For some reason, Len seems to think that the arch of my foot is a fabulous pillow. It has to be a dog thing – I cannot think of a human who’d ever say “Wow, the arch of your foot would be a great place for me to sleep. Do you mind? Just for a few hours?” She loves it. She snuggles up all along my leg and puts her head on my ankle. It’s kind of nice at first – she’s warm, and she’s snuggly, and she’s got nice, soft, puppy-like fur. But after twenty minutes or so, there’s the inevitable itch, or a cramp, or just the desire to move because you have to stay in one place.

At any rate, I napped for almost an hour, before Len kicked me and I woke up. I have wanted nothing but naps since Daylight Savings Time kicked in. I don’t care if it’s light or dark, I’m craving an afternoon curled up under the blankets, with no dishes to do or work to worry about. Because, let’s face it, sometmes there is nothing better than an afternoon nap. Especially in the summer, when you can open the window and listen to the birds outside. Or, better yet, when you can actually nap outside, in the shade of a tree.

I’ve always wanted a hammock. Not the cheesy kind you hook up to a metal stand – the kind you tie between two big trees so you can sway in the breeze with their branches. It seems like the perfect way to spend an afternoon, just lying around looking up at the sky, maybe sipping a cool drink. Maybe reading a book. Maybe just watching the leaves. Or maybe having a Dalmatian lie in the arch of your foot.