It's been a wild ride for the last few weeks. There was no real point in posting because my weight loss issues were heaved laboriously onto the back burner, there to simmer and fill the house with an enticing aroma. Hmm.
My oldest daughter and her husband have been out of work for a while, and his mom offered him a place in the Hill Country to live rent free, since she had recently evicted her tenants. Son-in-law flew up to look for work (no luck so far) and child-o-mine and her 3 li'l punks convoyed up across 6 states last week in a rental truck (me and chatty grandson) and minivan (daughter and 2 dozy toddlers).
The week prior we made a mad dash down to the Beaches to visit Young Daughter since the punks had never beached before and the sisters won't see each other again until that Fateful Wedding Day next spring. In between, my own 83 y.o. mother managed to come down with pneumonia and require a short hospital stay, with Faithful Self at her side. So really, I haven't been home in something like a month. I actually packed dirty clothes because I knew I could wash them here.
The House in Hill Country isn't nearly ready to move into yet (the aforementioned tenants trashed the place) so the family of five have been bunking with Mother-in-law and her boyfriend, a crotchety old man if I ever met one. It's a tiny house, and nine of us have been sharing a bathroom. It has snowed 3 times since I arrived, and the fellow refuses to turn on his furnace. The bedroom I'm sharing with the 2 dozy toddlers is colder than Sister Mary Albert's knickers, with no curtains on the large window and only a heap of woodenish handmade quilts for warmth. At least the punks have footie pajamas!
Tonight I fly home to warmer climes, and will control my own thermostat, diet and schedule again. I'm not diving right in to anything, but I have an appointment to speak to Derrick the Giant at one of the gyms I visited, and at least I won't be sneaking cheese out of a stranger's fridge and trying to explain why all the bread is gone again.
