Home again, home again… clickety click?

I arrived home on Tuesday night, a day after I was originally scheduled. My Monday flight was delayed before I even got up that morning, and some days you know it’s better not to push your luck with DFW. I rebooked for the next morning instead of attempting DFW and I’m grateful that I did because that flight did not go anywhere until much later in the evening.

In my bonus hours, I was able to finish some very necessary tasks, including finally setting up a medication dispenser (wifi-enabled! App managed! It’s called Hero if you’re looking for one.), her new printer, monitor, and the gazillion new things we had to buy at Sur la Table… even though neither of us has cooked anything at all in the last several months….. She lobbied HARD for a decorative shortbread pan… so I’m looking for a good recipe!

I am home now for only a short break between project stages. She will be having significant oral surgery in a couple of weeks, and I know a few things about living on soft foods only for months after my own jaw surgery in 2018, so I will be ready for my favorite late night question… “Will it blend?!?”

When she’s recovered from that, we will move on to her hip replacement. By then her new “OS” should just about be finalized…. 😉

But somewhere in there, I lost my plot.

The image is not really relevant to the story except to share that I could look really serious even when the most complex part of my life was how to get more delicious yellow watermelon.

It’s much harder to find now than it was then….

I arrived home on Tuesday night. My cats were beyond thrilled to see me.

After the immediate demands of belly rubs, head bonks, and lots of squeezing, I attended to their very significant murder mittens, which had grown so long they were tap dancing around the house.

Try as he did, my husband had only been able to trim 4 nails on on of the cats in the 2 months I was away. He dreaded it so much that he actually went to Texas to stay with my sister so I could come back and take care of them.

As I look around the house, I realize that everything else has been waiting for me too. Everything is exactly how I left it in May. My clean laundry basket with things I decided not to pack sits in a living room chair. Books I was reading are beside the bed. The cane I no longer require to walk leans against the wall. I’m not sure why I expected it to be any different - my husband wasn’t going to go on an organization spree - and he’s been fairly busy too — but it hits differently after months in hotels. Is this how people become minimalists?

Mentally my work unpacks itself before me. I’m meant to be writing about my experiences of the majority of this year. I have so many stories to tell.

As I sift through all the many threads, I think

This is my time to release what I’ve carried.

I take a deep breath and I pick up my pen…..