Flew right off. Failure of gravity, I say

FOR all of you who wonder if I fell off the face of the earth: I did.


Actually, it's work. I started a new inspection project Monday, and haven't surfaced since but to eat and sleep. It was a twelve hour day yesterday. And B's schedule is just as bad. It's been kinda like come home, take the boots off our steaming, achy feet, have something cold to drink, and weakly contemplate food.

Yesterday the girl made dinner (albeit from a box), and it was heavenly. Just the simple fact that I didn't have to make it was enough. We sat outside on the patio in the shade and consumed food in companionable silence, listening to her teenage chatter fill the empty air. :-) Sometimes teenage chatter is blessed. After I ate I rolled off my lawn chair and lay on my back in the grass, gazing up at B with squinted eyes like a half drunk panda bear. "Gravity got me." I mumbled. B just looked at me with a skeptical look. He didn't comment, testimony to how tired HE was. "It feels better down here" I said, Full belly, warm sun, long day. I closed my eyes for just a moment and threw my arms out wide in the cool grass.

And promptly went to sleep.

Home, drink, dinner, bed. Up, coffee, shower, work. For six more weeks, six days a week. But all the OT goes in our house fund.

Wish us luck.