No surprise, right?
I should be packing. Or at least cleaning the kitchen. How does it get so messy? There's only the two of us here, and I'm the only one who can reach the counter, so it must be my mess, but truly I don't understand it - or believe it. I swear there are gremlins.
Anyway, right, supposed to be packing. Cleaning. Preparing.
I got a big task done today - transferred the title on the truck. A small step, but it's always hard to walk in to an 'official' place, and say "My husband died. I'm trying to sort out all the peripheral crap. Where do I need to sign?" Sigh.
He should be here - we should be rolling our eyes at each other - he'd be thinking I'm packing too much for the baby, I'd be complaining that he's packing too much food... they do have a grocery store there.
Brad sent pictures of the giant inflatable sofa-raft we got him a few years ago, after my first trip to the lake. It was on clearance in the AB catalog, and everybody pitched in to get it as a thank you = then it promptly got buried in storage. It's resurfaced, and I'm looking forward to the ride.
If I ever get packed.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment