There are plenty of covers, but I still shiver a bit as I lie in bed. The thermostat has been set at 62º for days now, and those six degrees definitely makes a noticeable difference. Maybe I'll have to bring a few more blankets down and pile them on the hide-a-bed. I finally put a nail in the living room wall above the computer, and now my Big Dead Jesus (a.k.a. the large crucifix that creeps her out) hangs prominently in my line of sight. It is comforting, I guess. This living room is starting to feel like home.
Above me a red balloon rests against the ceiling, as it has for nine days now. Eleven days ago the Boy and I went to the florist to get a single white rose, as requested. They offered him a balloon, and so home we came with it. Of course it immediately caused trouble with a little brother who wanted it but couldn't have it, so it quickly ended up locked in a closet, pleasing no one. The Boy wanted to pack it, but I convinced him that was impractical.
As I wandered through the vacated home last Saturday, I saw it and brought it down to be part of my growing nest in the living room. It has lasted remarkably well, far exceeding any expectations I had. It is a bit reduced the last couple of days, but still looks taut and strong. The rose, too, still blooms, standing in the French press carafe on the kitchen counter, the closest thing to a vase that we brought with us. I wonder how long it will last before it droops and wilts. Maybe long enough.
Above me a red balloon rests against the ceiling, as it has for nine days now. Eleven days ago the Boy and I went to the florist to get a single white rose, as requested. They offered him a balloon, and so home we came with it. Of course it immediately caused trouble with a little brother who wanted it but couldn't have it, so it quickly ended up locked in a closet, pleasing no one. The Boy wanted to pack it, but I convinced him that was impractical.
As I wandered through the vacated home last Saturday, I saw it and brought it down to be part of my growing nest in the living room. It has lasted remarkably well, far exceeding any expectations I had. It is a bit reduced the last couple of days, but still looks taut and strong. The rose, too, still blooms, standing in the French press carafe on the kitchen counter, the closest thing to a vase that we brought with us. I wonder how long it will last before it droops and wilts. Maybe long enough. 
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