It's challenging to find anything good about the rising cost of gas. However, as I am a woman who loves words, the addition of two new words to the Urban Dictionary created by the soaring oil prices gives me the self-delusion of finding something redeeming about it. Daycation and staycation, while now admitted only into a rogue dictionary, may well someday end up in The Oxford.

This past weekend I went on a staycation at a cottage on Canandaigua Lake. Arriving late afternoon on Friday, and having established the Top Secret House Rules, me and four of my gal pals proceeded to eat, drink, sleep, float, soak, sloth, and giggle our way through Sunday.

All of us are pet owners, so we were pleased with the kitty who entered the open door the first night and proceeded to come and go as she pleased for the weekend. We named her Matilda, gave her bowls of half and half, bits of leftovers, and speculated about her permanent living arrangements ad nauseum. She slept on our beds, usually on our heads.

Set on the eastside of the lake, we watched the sun go down nightly, had a campfire and the mandatory yearly s'more, and discussed such highbrow subjects as women TV personalities. Kelly Ripa - mixed. Elizabeth Hasselbeck - ick. Rachael Ray - nice, but no neck. Across the lake, wonderful illegal fireworks were set off nightly.

As the gal in charge of bringing the vodka brought raspberry flavored -- we have yet to find out why -- we experimented. Raspberry vodka does not a good lemon drop make. And no, it does not make a new cool shot. Better to stick with mixers; in our case, pink lemonade and ice tea.

Sunday, we decided to venture out and pretend to be tourists in downtown Canandaigua at the Art & Music Festival. On our way from the parking lot we got sidetracked by the huge blown glass birds in the window of Nadal Glass Gallery. Struck by the beautiful rounded glass brick columns and aluminum awning that belonged to Wally's Pub next door, we decided it would be the perfect place for Bloody Marys. Inside was a well-worn wooden, horseshoe-shaped bar with a glass brick kick. Being told we had to wait two minutes until we could be served - it was 11:58 a.m. - we checked out the rest of the place. A dive, but a beautiful old art deco dive. We were treated to homemade BM's -- not a mix -- with the barmaid making a great show of the libations. After quickly slurping them down through straws, we headed to the fest. We lasted about a half hour in the humid hot and headed back to lakeside, making a quick stop for ice cream cones. Mine: chocolate soft-serve with cherry dip. Yum!

Home, we began the rotation of eat, drink, sleep, float, soak, sloth, and giggle once again. Leaving was sad.

Next up: Garage Sale & Super Flea at the Public Market