Too pooped to pop

  How can it be 2:30pm already? It's only 6:30am in Costa Rica and Cedar City. I am not a morning person. We need to organize. At 10am we left to buy some groceries, and I hadn't eaten breakfast yet. The grocery store is close by, a quick walk. Unless you take the long way there, to check out the neighborhood. Then the store was pretty big and crammed with weekend shoppers, all navigating the aisles around each other. I was ready to be done, but we were mocked by the olive oil. We couldn't find the section of the store with cooking oils. We looked once, as we did our other shopping. We circled back around twice, wondering how we could have missed it. Then Ron left to look for it. Then he returned and I left on the hunt. I finally found it, right by the entrance in the fruit section. We got back in the door at 1pm. I was too tired to eat.
  I have family history to do, if only I had a clue what I was doing. But I must do something, anything every day. The sun came out, I guess that's my sign. I haven't really seen the sun since 3 days ago when we first arrived. The people here are mostly pale. A far cry from Costa Rica. Some are sickly pale, and I want to take them by the hand to the beaches of Costa Rica, in a pilgrimage of vitamin D.
A little warmth goes a long way here. The sun shining on me through the window feels... delicious. Delightful. Soothing. Redeeming. Inspirational.
  Okay, time to find some relatives. The oil treasure hunt was a precursor to this search for information.

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