Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Last night we had dinner at the Black Forest, a German restaurant about a mile from where M lives. It was obvious that Earl, who is German, was in his glory with potato pancakes, pate, sausages, red cabbage, mashed potatoes, sauerkraut, and bread. And did I mention the German beer?

He was also ready to order Black Forest Cake with three forks for dessert if M and I hadn’t told him he’d eat it alone.

Today it’s back to the airport and our return trip home. The Weather Channel says we’ll be greeted with temperatures in the thirties, which will be a shock for our systems. My approach to handling this is to ignore it; Earl’s is not. He’s told me the temperature for every day next week in Benton Harbor and warned that I’ll be cold when we get into our car at South Bend Airport.

So the question is: Would we rather stay home and avoid the weather shock? Or would we rather have two weeks in the sun and struggle when we get home?

Earl’s response: ”I’d rather stay in Naples until Mother’s Day.”