We put my Dad on a plane home after an unbelievable non-stop week of one-way stream of consciousness and verbal deluge of epic proportions and the many conversations are swimming around in my brain like sharks looking for chum.
For someone who can’t seem to string two words together to tell the Mister I need coffee STAT, that first sentence wasn’t bad. If you’re grading on a curve.
I’m afraid I’ve been in a bit of a blog coma since my Dad’s arrival and after the 14-hour a day, every day, talk-fest that is my Father, this weekend is going to be a bit of a write-off. I’m penciling in some downtime. (Huh…even in my extreme mental exhaustion, I can still pun. I guess all is not erased. *snort*)
I’m a female version of Rip van Winkle and the only thing that got me this far…to write a short post on my blog absence, was Lenore Diane’s promise of ice cream. Not that you’ll find anything about ice cream if you click over to her blog…at least I hope not. She’s supposed to wait for me!
This weekend, I plan on doing nothing more strenuous than clicking the “next page” button on my eReader. I’m reading “The Wedding Day” by Catherine Alliot and it’s full of British slang, side-splitting humor and copious glasses of G&Ts. I’m so there, I’m actually there…in the wedding party, tossing ‘em down as fast as the bartender can slice a lime.
So, while I know I’m missing some seriously good stuff on my blog reader, let me just say in advance…you guys are funny and that story about the turtle and the Dyson was hysterical.
See you Monday and this weekend? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. And since there’s nothing I wouldn’t do at least once, make sure your insurance is up to date and go have fun!