My two cats are doing their best, but they just can't snore loud enough for me to get a decent night's sleep. The silence at night is getting on my nerves.

My spousal unit is off on one of those meditation retreat thingies of his. Up at 5:30, meditate, listen to lectures, meditate more, eat only whole grain vegetarian type food and then off to bed at 11 p.m. This is his idea of a relaxing break. I'd rather boil my head.

I can't imagine how someone can have the courage to look hard and deep inside themselves for a week. Me, I'm going the passing acquaintanceship route. What I don't know can't hurt me.

And as for the food--well, I can eat vegetarian when I must. I will even admit that a lot of it is very tasty. But hey, our species fought long and hard to get to the top of the food chain, and I figure I *owe* it my ancestors to eat the losers, eh.

Are you with me on this? Anyone up for some curried losers? No? How about Losers Cordon Bleu?

Oh dear. Wait a minute ... I've gotten so far off the track I can't even see the track from here ... Forgive me. Snoring, not food, that was the subject of today's meanderings.

It's not an exaggeration to say that Paul throws off some serious decibels at night. Over the years I've learned to sleep through it, though.

Now, when I have silence, around 2:30 in the morning my eyes pop open. Every atom of my body tells me something is wrong. I lie there sleepless, watching the stars through the skylight above our bed.

God I miss his snoring.