And I'm home, and fairly sane (you should see how I spelled that on the first try, maybe you'd doubt me), and not too medicated.
I feel very neglectful. I haven't updated this in FOUR WHOLE DAYS. I think that's the longest I've gone without some sarcastic commentary since I started this blog. It was weird; I've gotten used to it, like how I used to keep a journal.
Saturday was a barbecue with some friends of mine from high school. We went and stayed for a whole hour and a half before the baby had a meltdown due to teething and we had to leave. It was nice to see my buddies, though. I ate too much, and the baby ate a lot of stuff she won't eat at home, because she saw ME eating it. Little shit.
Sunday was the baby's early birthday party. (The big day is actually Sept. 6.) Much cuteness. I will post some pictures, if Blogger allows it, when we dig out from under all this luggage and find the computer, discs, and camera. Between my family and the husbeast's, this kid now has a pile of toys, 90% of it educational stuff. They know me so well. (Hey. You can play, or you can play and learn. Why not learn too? It beats school in a classroom.)
Monday was... uh... oh. We ran over to Pennsylvania to see the husbeast's aunt and visit. That was nice too.
Tuesday was more visits to and from, and a photo session with the local home-town photographer (the baby wore the husbeast's sailor suit from when he was a boy; even the photographer, who has seen, what, ten MILLION babies, said "That's a cute kid.") and we went to the park to visit the duckies. And to my family to say good bye.
Then today we drove back here, just in time for the house to get hit by a tropical storm, sometime tomorrow. Not to mention driving through a massive storm cell in N Carolina on the way here. Fun. Excitement. Pass the tranquilizers.
Now we're home, and I've hugged my cat (and soon will again) and wallowed in the recliner, and all I really want to do is dig in here and refuse to leave the house for a month after all that visiting.
I got to row 35 on the doily. Two rows per day (with a few days to spare) and I'll get it done. I measured a sweater I'd previously knit for my mother-in-law that she likes the fit of, and will now get to work knitting the Vast Blueness of the Blue Shimmer. I've still got fifty-fifty odds of getting it done, if I knit every minute I'm not working on the doily.
Did I mention I get nutty about deadlines?