There's no place like home

I am most assuredly NOT back to my cheery self. I am, however, home. We were released from captivity last night, and sent home with a U-haul full of medication and instructions for Michael's recovery. Mostly, I have to feed him, and tie him down. He keeps thinking that he wants to go out into the wide world and do something. I keep sending him back to bed. Even were I to allow him out, the child lacks the strength to hike to the mailbox.

Here I am, utterly stunned at all that needs to be done in terms of catching up. Sleep, of course was first upon my list of things to do. I managed 12 hours last night for myself. I intend to do the same tonight. My brother-in-law is on his way over to mow this lawn. I'm doing laundry. There's a car to wash, a house to dust, cooking to do, and bills to pay.

Once I get a handle on all of that, I need to start packing and making plans for the whole marriage/move. The dark roots atop my head will need to be dealt with, and I should look into a vigorous excercise regimen.

If Summer would ever actually show up, I'd work on my tan. Why is it chilly and damp in the middle of June? Who is in charge of that?

Being home has some benefits, though. For instance, people don't walk into my living space unannounced all day long and thru the night. My meal choices are far more varied. I get to sleep in a real bed, and shower whenever I like. It's much more quiet.

The quiet is welcome.

We've a long way to go before Michael is well. Don't stop praying.