Saturday, January 2, 2010

Home is Where the Bed Is

The pass across the Rockies leads from my brother's home to ours. Since another big storm was coming in, we hastily packed and headed home yesterday, arriving just before five o'clock last night. My rib wasn't happy, but I was smiling as I walked into the house like an old woman. It's always good to be home. At least now that we live here it's good to be home. I guess our roots were always here. We just had to find them.

I'll admit I didn't unpack last night—or yet this morning, coming to think of it. I checked email and phone messages, and made a few "we safe at home now" phone calls. Then I took one of those modern marvels called a pain pill and went to bed really early after a very few bites of dinner. (Thanks, Betty. She sent us home with dinner—her famous Boston Butt, all set to reheat for a fast meal and just about zero prep time.) Some people eat when they're sad, sick, hurt or depressed. I'm the opposite. I tend to sleep.

One of the phone calls I returned made me laugh, though, which really did hurt. It was from my cousin Mary. Let me remind you that we've been here over four years, with Mary living in Denver, just an hour away, and we've never yet managed to get together except when we both visited Wisconsin at the same time. Go figure. The last time we tried was the day she and Earl decided to come up on the day we were leaving for California. They're coming today. Maybe I'll get dressed after all. Perhaps she'd like to empty a suitcase or two while she's here. (I hope she's not reading this...)

One of the things she told me was to hug a pillow against my ribs if I laugh, cough or sneeze. Afterwards I wondered if she realized the broken rib is in my back. It's hard to hug a pillow back there. My arms don't work that way. I'll have to ask her to demonstrate for me. Still, it will be good to see her. She's one of my Aunt Cookie's kids, and a more fun group of cousins I've yet to imagine. They're the kind to call with important information, like a new phone number, and ask, "Have you got your crayon sharpened?"

My mother had a saying: Never a dull moment. I'm keeping up the tradition, Ma.

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