Home at last

I spent Thursday night in the apartment because of the bad weather and because I was just simply exhausted. I was so tired that I went to bed before 9 p.m. and slept till 7 a.m. this morning. Then I got up, had coffee and breakfast, took out the trash, packed, stopped by the office to pick up some stuff, and then headed South. Major clouds, but I know better than to try to take pictures as I drive. Now I'm sitting on my sofa, the tv on, my laptop on my lap, my Blackberry and landline phone at my elbow, and Simon perched on his loft. My Esteemed Spouse is off squiring around one of the job candidates. He is supposed to be home by 1:30 p.m. I hope he will be since I haven't seen him since Monday morning.

We've got a man coming by this afternoon to talk about potentially adding a sunroom off the den instead of the old useless deck. Fingers crossed that the cost won't be too outrageous. We would use a sunroom much more often than we use the deck. Simon would love it, too.

I'm still unable to keep Lynn out of my mind. On the drive home, it seemed that every song on the radio reminded me of her. When The Animals' "We Gotta Get Outta This Place" played, I wondered if she would have lived longer if she hadn't lived in the middle of Louisiana. Her medical care wasn't the best, more than likely, and she smoked. People with juvenile diabetes are not supposed to smoke. (Well, no one is supposed to smoke. It's just that much worse for them.) I've added a photo of her from when she was young to this blog, but I fear it's turned sideways, and I'm not sure I know how to turn it properly right side up.