Drifting

"And though you say your heart isn't drifting, drifting ... "
Harry Connick Jr. (I've had this song stuck in my head all day.)

Well, we're back. What exactly is the protocol on how to feel when you return to your house after being gone for 3 1/2 months? Especially when you weren't planning on being gone in the first place. It's not like going away for the summer, that's for sure.

When you pack your bags, you usually have a date of when you'll be returning. That wasn't the case when we left the day before St. Patrick's.

I'm feeling a bit sheepish for forgetting things like my phone number (home & mobile); the password on my desktop pc (which I have now, obviously, remembered). It is a strange mix of discovery & familiarity. Kind of like Alice through the Looking Glass. It's the same, but it's not.

Jacqueline already fell asleep in her eggs tonight. They all declared starvation at about 9:30 pm, so we made a modge podge of breakfast stuff-for-dinner; eggs, toast, cereal, pancakes. (i'll share my secret for fast pancakes soon). Her head was on the table before her egg was done. They all managed to get some nutrients into their bellies and are now snoozing soundly. It's a false sense of security, though. The first night is the easiest and sometimes you can power through & maintain some normalcy on the 2nd night, but the 3rd night, whoa, watch out. We'll be falling asleep at 4pm and ready to party at 1am! Pancakes and eggs anyone?