My darling, beautiful late afternoon here, sunny and mild, the world melting but in a nice way that bespeaks spring, and there's birdsong, robins and chickadees, still too much snowcover to see crocuses or snowdrops starting to come up, but they're under there, coming soon. I am in very good spirits today - and determined to keep myself that way - despite. Oh yes, despite. But I am determined to be happy, I have decided. You see, at the ripe age of 51 I had my first-ever brush with the law today, in the form of a speeding ticket. Without prejudicing myself, let's just say it's too easy to let it rip and go barreling down a certain fairly empty straightaway around these parts. I was returning from the library, listening to the radio, thinking of you, wondering how I should prepare the chicken legs thawing on the counter for dinner, and contemplating stopping by the supermarket, when I glanced in the rear view mirror and, oh yes, just like on COPS or those other type shows, he was all gumsnapping and do you know why I stopped you, and I took a wild guess, and he said do you know how fast you were going, and I said no, and just handed him my license and registration and referred to him as sir or officer as needed, and before long I was back on my way - and that road is just so damn fast that even with him on my tail afterward it took all I had to keep it at 55. I'm amazed, honestly, that I haven't gotten a ticket before. I mean, I try of course not to be reckless, but I do space off and lose track of my speed on some of these roads. Ah well. So when I got home I told D the bad news, and I'm very grateful to him for taking the news very equanimically, he didn't get anxious or frustrated or anything, he was really very nice about it, and is going to help me take care of it. My impulse was, let's just mail the thing in and pay the fine, and he says, no, if you go in person with proof of your clean record they might show leniency and reduce the fine and not put points on your license. Yikes, points on my license. That's a first, a new concept for me. Oh, anyway, it is just such a beautiful day and I was having a nice day and as I said, I am just determined not to let this little incident ruin it. It's almost inevitable up here to get a ticket. D's gotten a couple over the years and has Seen the Error of His Ways, and now it was my turn. Oh, grrrr, though. I could feel my mood starting to slip like a glacier breaking off but I was like no, I musn't, simply musn't let that happen, it's not worth it. It's the perfectionist "good girl" in me that's trying to beat me up. Let the law beat me up, that's what it's there for, and even the sheriff didn't beat me up, he just did his job, like I've seen a million times over the years on TV. So there.

So in the way of compartmentalizing (let that stinking ticket molder like a portrait of D.G.), I realized that I had most of the makings for Sicilian Spicy Chicken right in the house, so no need to go to the supermarket - and truly I was pretty much off the idea of driving for the rest of the day. Didn't feel like getting back on that horse, not to go to ShopRite. So D will stop on the way home and get the olives that help season the dish, a stewed mélange of all kinds of vegetables - eggplant, plum tomatoes, bell and hot peppers, carrot, russet potato - along with capers, red wine, and chicken.

Did I mention that no lives were lost? And that I have my health? And that the sun is shining? And that there's a roof over my head? You see (I'm reminding my inner perfectionist good girl), one must keep things in perspective.

My darling, how are you? I hope you're enjoying your week, getting to do some things that are really fun for you. I'm so glad I had a dream about you last night, that was a pretty cool one, wasn't it? I mean, I would have preferred to have the future-predicting kind of dream about the force of the law flashing its neon lights at me in broad daylight - oh, but do I really need advance notice of that? No I do not, the posted speed limits within the great Empire State and everywhere else will henceforth suffice, especially in these catch-the-revenue-generating-speeders times.

No, I'm glad I had the very dream I had, with you and Elvis and perfume, and I'm glad I remembered enough of it to write it up, and later in the morning Creslyn on KZE played a beautiful piece of music that I could instantly imagine dancing to with you, even though I don't know how to dance, not really. But one would wish perhaps to be on a moonlit dance floor, me in a long flowing gown, you in a tux, and of course we're both expert dancers, and clasped in each other's arms we swirl around the terrace on a soft summer night, the stars up above in the clear black sky twinkling down on us.

Kisses, darling, from your ever loving foxtrotting speed demon.