The break was lovely, but now there's just so much STUFF I have to DO that sometimes I have to remind myself to keep breathing so I don't pass out in public.
My desk, my lovely, lovely desk, which some of you may remember my parents gave me in February, was as I hoped it would be and miracle of miracles . . . It fits!!!!! I've never owned a desk that fit me before. And it has drawers and cubbies and sqeeeeeeee!
I'm so glad we have our house back, even if it does come with its . . . quirks.
For example, on the first morning I was back I woke up really, really early* and, after ogling my desk for a while, went out into our glorious kitchen to make myself a cup of tea and read the Victorian Trading Co. catalogue while I waited for my family to wake up and decide they needed to take me out to breakfast.
I was sipping my tea and deciding whether I really needed a lace ruffled bathrobe with roses on it, when I looked up out of the big window in our dining room and across to the hut--where we were for Thanksgiving and Christmas--and saw. . .a cow snuffling our neighbor's cars.
Then I realized that the reason the creature looked strangely familiar was because it was our** cow.
The cow put out its tongue and slurped a headlight.
|This is not our cow, but you get the idea.|
I woke my parents, then went back into the kitchen just to make sure that I wasn't imagining things. Nope. There was our cow happily munching the neighbor's potted plants. My groggy family stumbled out into the living room just in time to witness the second cow come around the corner of the hut and take a big bite out of the ugly bush on the other side of the woman's stairs.
It took all of us and two neighbors*** to get the cows back into a pasture with fences around it.
I could turn this into a writing analogy, but I'm not sure you or I want to see what that would look like, so I'll spare you.
* Jet lag. It's a blast.
** At least, one half of it's total body weight is ours.
*** running around in our pajamas and slippers in the knee high grass