Gadabouts at Large

"Now Molly," she said on the phone. "Don't be getting carried away with too many plans for gadding about!"

"But Rise, darlin'," said I. "What better excuse for intensified gadding than a visit from one's Little Blister? Wouldn't want you trawling all the way from the Ould Sod to these here sunny climes just to be bored out of your mind!"

"No danger," says Rise. "Boring would be good after the pace around here lately. In fact, boring would be blissful," says she.

For so many years we were sober and responsible. And suppressed our gadding instincts. In order to better raise our children. And not ruffle outlaw feathers. And not cause chins to wag. Or eyebrows to be raised. Or neighbors to be scandalised. Or rumors to be spread.

Now our children are raised. Its over, almost, except for the worrying. Time for the fat lady to sing. For corks to pop. For the fun to begin. Those gadding instincts will be denied no longer. And gadding is much more fun when you have a co-gaddee with whom to gad.

We've already gadded off to Miami in the rain. And met up there with a new recruit. And conducted for her a gadabout seminar. Wherein we imparted to her the finer points of gadding. Towed her along to the beach at Naples for in-field training. She aced her exam.

From there we gadded to the sun drenched gardens of Sarasota. Our gadding shoes are getting a workout. And loving it. They've spent too much time in the closet. They're intoxicated by the airing they're getting. We have to lock them up in the evening so they don't go gadding off into the night without us.

More gadding to come. We'll keep you apprised.