drugged by the salt air
We went north to the seaside for an outing today. It was perfect seaside weather: gray and misty and cool. The only thing that would have made it better was if we had worn trousers instead of optimistic shorts. We had thought we might want to paddle a little in the ocean, if we could get to it. No. Rascal did, though, since he doesn't feel cold, and he had a great time. Unfortunately, we're still trying to force him to take it easy on his sore leg, so we didn't walk as much as we otherwise would have; and we discovered that, except for walking, there's not a great deal to do on an outing with the dog. So in the end it was not a long one, but it was nevertheless just the thing we needed to differentiate our weekend from the rest of the workaday week.
Anyways, the point of this whole story is that when we came home—in the middle of the afternoon, no less, not at some unreasonable late hour—we all three fell immediately and completely to sleep. Something in the air up there, I guess. Sleeping gas?