On His Way Home
Well, right about now, dear Filipes should be sipping a rum and coke latte in Minneapolis. He’s on his way home. I’ll be picking him up at the airport in the City of Black Gold and Riches tonight.
After a 3 and a half hour drive. After the soccer cluster#%&$ jamboree. After I vacuum the gobs of black dog hair growing legs and mating collecting in the corners of our stairs, not to mention everywhere else. And we have to squeeze in some school work. We meet our liason lady on Friday and lately we have done a whole lotta crap-all in terms of structured learning via ‘modules’. So a week of catch up awaits us. And the newspaper…. Ugh. I can’t think of coming week just yet.
Let’s just get through this day of soccer cluster#%&$ and drive to Calgary.
However, we get the joy of coming home to some Ethel Lovliness…. Our cleaning lady. She will have been while we return from the city. The house will be awash in the scent of vinegar and lemons. And after being alone with my animals kids this week, some Ethel lovliness is just what this ittybittycottagehouse needs.
The kids will sleep at Nan’s while I make the trek to the city. Silence. Alone. Four hours. A little taste of bliss before the reality of this week comes caving in. Oh God… maybe even a little shopping…. and a duck into one of bazillion Starbucks….
Oh… and of course, there’s hubby. Bestill. Heart.
