Fort Worth Zoo

The weather is gorgeous here.  Perfect for a day at the zoo.

Our little zoo in Madison doesn't have zebras, and Mary has been desparate to visit some zebras.  So we headed over to the Fort Worth Zoo to say hello to some striped friends.

Mary insisted that we head straight to the zebras first, which we did--

Mary's primary reason for coming to Texas accomplished, we could move on and enjoy a lovely day at the zoo.

The flamingos were hilarious to watch.

We had to stop by and say hello to the meerkats.  When David was a young lad of 20 months, we visited the Fort Worth Zoo, and he LOVED the meerkats.

There is a wonderful new reptile and amphibian house.  We loved it.  David and I bravely touched a rat snake.  We saw a python eating a mouse.  The kimodo dragon was a big hit.  (But Mary thought little lizards were way cuter.)  And I took this picture for Greg.  It's a lizard that is found only on the island of Utila, Greg's haunt back in his scuba-diving days.

Mary dragged us to the kangaroos, where she demonstrated how they hop.

I should point out that my kids tend to do everything at the zoo EXCEPT look at the animals.  They read the maps, watch the videos, study the signs, climb on the sculptures--but heaven help them if they actually look at an animal!  (Daniel and my mom were laughing at how much I said, "Look at the animal--the REAL one, not the one in the picture/on the computer screen/on the map!")



We had a great day hanging out together (and we especially liked the Wild Texas part of the zoo).  It was a lovely, lovely day--spent with good company.



We're here!

I'm in Texas!  And I got to travel here with these cuties--



 First on the agenda was lots of hugs for Uncle Daniel--who is back from a two-year mission in Vina del Mar, Chile.  Hooray!!  We're so happy for him--for all of the faith and hard work.  He still gives super good hugs.  (And now he speaks English with the cadence of a native Spanish speaker.)

Also near the top of the agenda was a trip to the Rainforest Cafe.  David has been dreaming about this for months.  Grandma Evie was happy to oblige (even though it's, um...well, us adults will keep our opinions to ourselves)--and David and Mary were enthralled.



We also took a trip to the zoo--pictures forthcoming--and we've been celebrating with Tio and Tia, who are up from San Antonio.  Most of all, us grown-ups have been barraging Daniel with an assault of way too much advice on what job he should take, where he should go to school, and what kind of car he should drive.  Coming home from a mission is not easy.  (Understatement.)

What a treat to be here for fun, family, and plenty of sunshine.

A point

Yay for Washington College!    (And Cory, of course!)

P.S.  Speaking of Washington College, I still recommend this book by one of WC's professors.

P.P.S. Check out that head shot of Frank Deford.  (I had no idea.) Classic.

Polka and sunshine

On Saturday we dragged our kids kicking and screaming to the Overture Center to see these Pint-Sized Polkas--Uncle Mike and His Polka Band!

Uncle Mike's accordian has some serious bling.  But my favorite was his sidekick Lumberjack Dan, who was so serious and...Midwestern.

David and Mary LOVED it.  So, it is definitely okay to drag your kids kicking and screaming to stuff sometimes.

Afterwards, we went out for ice cream.  David and Mary wanted to sit outside in the sunshine.  So we did.  They were not wearing coats.  And it was 50 degrees.  It felt like perfectly pleasant weather for ice cream.

We are going to Texas.  It is going to be 80 degrees.  I know I should be excited about that...but we are going to mmmmmmelt.

By the way, did you know that Wisconsin is the polka capital of the world?  Dairy farmers by day; polka dancers by night.  Seriously.

Some more books I have read this year-ish

Still talking about these books...

The Unthinkable: Who Survives When Disaster Strikes--and Why by Amanda Ripley

Greg got this book for Christmas.  It didn't seem quite as boring as his usual fare, so I gave it a go after he finished it.  Basically, it's a collection of survival stories. Ripley recounts the stories of several plane crashes, a horrendous fire at an Ohio supper club, tragic stampedes during the haj, both attacks on the World Trade Center, and the Virginia Tech shootings, among other disasters.  Having conducted extensive interviews with survivors, she relates their personal accounts.  And she examines why these people survived.

For me, this books was escapism.  I read it just before the blood drive.  Organizing the blood drive was seriously stressful for me.  And I found it oddly relaxing to put each mini-fiasco (and a few major ones) that came along out of my mind in order to read about a plane crash or a hurricane or a terrorist attack.  (I'm not sure what this says about me?)

Recounting the narratives of survivors and closely examining how and why they survived (when others didn't) made for a very interesting read.  What I did not like were the conclusions and extrapolations Ripley made.  At times the book takes the tone of a "how-to" manual and insists on a call to action. She should have left that alone.  It was annoying (like being in a Sunday School class where every single scripture verse and scripture story has to be overly simplified so as to be 100% applied directly to your life in the form of an immediate personal action plan).  And it didn't really work.

Because I guess this is what happens when disaster strikes--

1. You have no idea how you will respond.
2. How you respond is pretty much genetically determined.
3. Procrastination is bad--except when it's not.
4. Fire drills are good.

So, really, the moral of the book is "Fire drills are good."

Read the book for the stories.  But draw your own conclusions.  Or not.  Either way, the tales she shares and the people she introduces make for a quick, interesting, thought-provoking read.

William Henry Harrison by Gail Collins

William Henry Harrison was the "Log Cabin and Hard Cider" presidential candidate of 1840.  There's always a question on the AP US History exam about the Whigs' Log Cabin campaign--because it marked the beginning of modern campaign politics.  Harrison never really lived in a real log cabin and he didn't even like alcohol.  And he ran as a hero of the War War of 1812, even though he wasn't really that either.  But the myth-making worked.

After winning the election, Harrison arrived in Washington wanting to prove himself virile, healthy, and vibrant.  (Harrison was sensitive about his age--he was an ancient 68 when life expectancy was about 45.  Plus, his campaign had centered on his role as a courageous military warrior.)  To prove himself, he refused to wear a coat or hat at his inauguration on a wet, cold Washington day.  Then he proceeded to give the longest inaugural address in U.S. history, coming in at two hours.  He caught pneumonia and died a month later.  

Collins points out that the "William Henry Harrison story is less about issues than about accidents of fate and silly campaigns."  Even if he had lived, he would not have been a transformational figure.  But he was a genuinely kind, likable man.  He was open and friendly.  And his primary mission in life was caring for his large family.  As Collins suggests, "Maybe someday he'll be repackaged in a way that's more inspiring--not as the guy who got elected president by pretending to be something he wasn't and then made a fatal inauguration speech in the rain, but as a struggling American dad in a difficult era, trying to keep food on the table and a roof over everybody's head."

Yes, I read the book because Gail Collins wrote it.  I did not have a genuine interest (or any interest at all) in William Henry Harrison.  But I'm glad I read it!  Harrison was a decent, warm man, who was surprised and giddy to find himself as the President.  The historical context of his life was interesting--and new to me.  I didn't realize how much of the War of 1812 involved battles and negotiations with Indians.  I had never given much thought to life on the frontier (Ohio, Kentucky, etc.) during the early 19th century.  And I was very happy to meet Tecumseh.  (Why is there no question on the AP exam about him?)

This is a short read, less than 200 pages.  And Gail Collins is a good writer, so you're in good hands for those 200 pages.  It is a tad on the boring side.  But it's brief.  

Now that I have been introduced to this series, I'm considering reading up on a few other often overlooked presidents.  (Franklin Pierce anyone?  How about Grover Cleveland? Chester Arthur?  Or perhaps Benjamin Harrison, good old William Henry's grandson?  Oh, this could be fun...)

The River of Doubt: Theodore Roosevelt's Darkest Journey by Candice Millard

Love this book!!  I highly recommend it (and, no, it's not boring).  I read this book because I enjoyed so much Candice Millard's book about James Garfield, Destiny of the Republic.  As much as I love James Garfield, this is the superior book.  It is so well-written, in my opinion.

Millard writes about Teddy Roosevelt's journey down an unchartered tributary of the Amazon.  After his humiliating defeat in the 1912 election, Roosevelt sought solace through a punishing physical challenge.  The journey was something of a whim and poorly planned.  (There is definitely something to micro-managing!  Roosevelt surely regretted that he had not involved himself in the planning--because the lack thereof very nearly cost him and his son Kermit their lives.)  The hardships this group faced are unbelievable.  Unbelievable!  (You'll have to read the book.)

I certainly have a new respect for Theodore Roosevelt.  The Big Stick thing (there's always a question about that on the AP Exam) didn't really leave me with a favorable impression.  And the Bull Moose thing was just kind of confusing.  (But I knew as long as I associated the Bull Moose party with TR, I'd get the question on  the AP Exam right.)  I enjoyed getting to know Teddy Roosevelt.  I also enjoyed getting to know Candido Mariano da Silva Rondon, Brazil's most famous explorer.  What a remarkable man!  Perhaps most of all, I enjoyed getting acquainted with the Amazon jungle:

Far from its outward appearance, the rain forest was not a garden of easy abundance, but precisely the opposite.  Its quiet, shaded halls of leafy opulence were not a sanctuary but, rather, the greatest natural battlefield on the planet, hosting an unremitting and remorseless fight for survival that occupied every single one of its inhabitants, every minute of every day.

Millard's writing is at its best when she's describing the jungle: the layers of the tropical rain forest, the different kinds of flesh-eating fish, the geological history of the continent, the variety of ants, the mat of fungi under the soil, and the "exquisitely efficient competition for survival."  (She is a former writer and editor of National Geographic, after all.)

But, above all, this is an adventure tale.  But a dark, claustrophobic, tragic one.  (Read it.)



The Big Burn: Teddy Roosevelt and the Fire That Saved America by Timothy Egan

I am lukewarm on this book.

It was on our bookshelf, and I picked it up because of Teddy Roosevelt.  I wanted to read more about him. So I did.  And I enjoyed reading about him.  He was definitely a man of action.  Wow.  We have a lot to thank him for.  He (and his advisor Gifford Pinchot) invented the idea of conservation.  And they reshaped the country by introducing the idea of public lands preserved for every citizen.  This was totally revolutionary.  It's hard to believe that so many people thought stripping the land was a GOOD thing (not just a necessary evil).  He reshaped our thinking and saved the West (and facilitated saving parts of the East too).  It is amazing what Teddy Roosevelt accomplished.  (And what a weanie president Taft was.  Poor guy.  He didn't even want to be president.)

This book is about the advent of the Forest Service and the largest-ever American forest fire--that exploded in the Forest Service's infancy.

Reading about the fire is interesting and almost gripping, but the narrative could have been more compelling and easier to follow. Perhaps it's because I so recently read The Unthinkable and The River of Doubt, but Egan did not meet my expectations in his telling of the disaster itself.  I'm not sure why...

Finally, Egan shies away from sending home the point that ultimately the Forest Service staked its existence on the promise to fight fires with a 0 tolerance policy.  But that policy, which was ostensibly to protect the forests, has actually made them unhealthy. We now understand that fire is an important part of forest life.  And there is reason to believe that the early leaders of the Forest Service knew that.   As one of the Forest Rangers in the book points out (I can't remember who?):  Fire is not good or bad.  It just is.

Okay, now that I'm thinking about the book:  It was pretty good.  Just not great.



And now I need to start packing.  The kids and I are flying to Texas tomorrow!  Guess who is home from Chile!!

Some books I have read this year-ish

I have been reading regularly.  For me, this is a sign of good (relative, of course) mental health.  (It's hard to explain.) In the above picture are (most of? all of?) the books I have read so far this year.  Some of them I read over the holidays, so technically it was last year.  But whatever.  Also, I don't often read books that make obvious good recommendations.  So whatever.  Also, these are just some notes and thoughts, nothing really very coherent.  Not reports or reviews or recommendations  Just whatever...





Good Wives: Image and Reality in the Lives of Women in Northern New England, 1650-1750 by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich


Why did it take me so long to get to this book?  I loved it.  First of all, it's a beautiful example of good, solid scholarly writing:  You say what you're going to say, you say it, and then you say what you said.  Her complex but clear sentences and paragraphs made me swoon.  Her word choice is perfect.  You have to work as a reader, but not too hard, because Ulrich is taking care of you, leading you through the development and organization of her findings and ideas.  I was reminded of why I sometimes  prefer the academic writing of a scholar to the pop nonfiction of a journalist.

This book is not as perfectly tight and and tidy as Ulrich's A Midwife's Tale (one of the very favorite books), but that's okay.  As Ulrich herself points out, it's "an extended description constructed from a series of vignettes," and the appeal of the book, she hopes, "lies in the aggregate texture of the associated parts."  She paints a vivid picture with the fragments of history (seemingly unimportant primary sources) she dug up and analyzed.  With a map here, a household inventory there, a gravestone, a poem, a scribbled letter, a court case, and so on, she is able to bring to life the women of pre-Revolution New England.

As the title indicates, this book is about the lives of women in Northern New England from 1650-1750.  Ignore the "Good wives" and "Image and reality" bit in the title.  This is a book about women's lives, that gets as close as possible to "what it was really like."   I was struck by how much I related to these women.  Or, more specifically, how alike, for better and worse, my peer group (Mormon moms busy raising children) is to these women.  I love the details Ulrich gleans from the scant historical record.  For instance,

1. A mother was trying to keep a baby shushed and occupied during a church service, so she handed the baby the first thing she could dig out of her pocket, a bodkin.  At some point the baby dropped the bopkin, and it was lost beneath the pews, to be picked up by another woman.  (Controversy arose as to whether the finder picked up the bodkin in order to return it or keep it.)  Mothers 400 years ago struggled to keep their kids quiet in church!
2. Women took up spinning when they had small children because it's an ongoing project that can be continuously interrupted.  It's something productive that can be put down and picked up again at a moment's notice--like if a baby is crying or a toddler is wandering.  In later years, after the stage of demanding small ones, women abandoned spinning for endeavors like cheese-making, which requires long periods of uninterrupted attention (which is not possible with a lot of little ones).
3. It was important to women to have a church within a reasonable walking distance. This is in part because it was simply too exhausting for a nursing mother to walk for hours to church, attend church, and then walk hours and hours home.  Going to church should not be in opposition to breastfeeding.
4. Life was a cycle of pregnancy, birth, and lactation.  From the historical record, it is clear that women were out and about and traveling during their second trimesters.  And again when the baby was small and portable.  But once a baby was six to eight months, it was easier to stay home.  Women also clearly laid low during the first trimester of pregnancy.  And during the last couple of months too.
5. When a baby reached the age of somewhere around a year or a year and a half, a mother would simply leave for a few days and go stay with a friend or relative.  Without the baby.  Why?  To leave dad at home to comfort the abruptly weaned baby. 

Isn't that stuff so interesting?  There is so much more in Good Wives.  Like choosing a spouse.  The balance of power in marriage.  Neighborliness.  Childbearing customs.  Indian raids.  Needlework.  Church.

More than ever before did I feel like women generations before me were real, living human beings.   Maybe it's because I come from New England stock, but I felt a connection to these women.  Despite the fact they are almost invisible to history.  Thank you, Laurel.

By the way, if A Midwife's Tale and Good Wives are a little slow for you (because slow they are!), Laurel Thatcher Ulrich's Well-Behaved Women Seldom Make History (a phrase she coined) is much breezier.  (And it includes a chapter on the very awesome Christine de Pizan.)





Because I was so fascinated with the domestic details of life in the home, I thought At Home: A Short History of Private Life by Bill Bryson would be the perfect book to read next.  It wasn't.

Don't get me wrong.  It was a great book!  Lively and well-written and fascinating and accurate in that meandering, slyly humorous Bryson way.  Just two pages of this book give you enough interesting anecdotes to last for five years' worth of dinner party conversations.

But it was all about men. Men!  How could a book called At Home barely mention any women at all?  Not to sound all super traditional, but isn't "the home" kind of considered "the woman's sphere?"  So why is this a book about the accomplishments of men in the public sphere?  What the heck?

It is Bill Bryson at or near his best, and I actually recommend this book.  But, to me, reading is about timing.  Reading the right book at the right time.  This was not the right book to follow up Good Wives.  Too bad.  Because it was a good book.





Death Comes to Pemberley by P.D. James

I got this book for Christmas.  Which is a good thing because I was curious to read it--but I wouldn't buy it for myself or bother to check it out from the library.  So, thank you, Dad!

I had never read a spin-off Jane Austen book before.  I guess maybe I'm kind of a snob like that?  But there is certain coolness factor to a meeting of Pride and Prejudice (six years later) and P.D. James.

It was about what I expected. (Except that the mystery part was surprisingly lame.)  I was hoping to be wowed.  But that's okay.  (To be honest, it was more boring than the truly boring books I read.)  But onto my shelf it goes--books that I consider a waste of time do not make it to the bookcase--because somehow the coolness of it more than makes up for the mediocrity.  (People, P.D. James is 91!)

I do have to say that I like the little (not too much) dose of reality that she gives the characters.  Like that Elizabeth admits that were it not for Pemberley, she wouldn't have married Darcy.  (Really, how could it not be about the money?)  Or gently underscoring that, while among the gentry the Bennets may not have been wealthy, they certainly were still quite comfortable in their living compared to society at large.

Also, I love the brief appearance of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who states:  "I have never approved of protracted dying.  It is an affectation in the aristocrary; in the lower classes it is merely an excuse for avoiding work. . . . The de Bourghs have never gone in for prolonged dying.  People should make up their minds whether to live or die and do one or the other with the least inconvenience to others."  Classic.



Even more boring books coming up tomorrow!

Rotten dinosaur egg

This is a rotten dinosaur egg.

She races everywhere with the challenge, "Last one there is a rotten dinosaur egg!"  Then speedy as a rocket, she beats us all and announces triumphantly, "I win!  I'm the rotten dinosaur egg!"

Yes, she's got it all a little mixed up.  But it's too cute/funny/innocent to correct her.  Besides, she's so stubborn, I'm not sure she would believe us if pointed out that the loser is the rotten egg.  We've been enjoying Mary the super speedy rotten dinosaur egg for several months now.  And she's just so dang proud to be a winning rotten dinosaur egg.

She sure is a cute one.


P.S.  Another Mary matter:  If you would like Mary to share something with you, say, a bite of ice cream or an M&M, she insists that you say with "magic word."  Which is "I love Tinkerbell and Tinkerbell loves me."  This is utterly humiliating for David--but sometimes he really wants that bite of ice cream or M&M.  So they compromise.  David can say, "I like Tinkerbell and Tinkerbell likes me."  They are tough negotiators, those two.

Party!

Party notes:

1. No, I did not take pictures during the festivities.  (That would make too much sense!)  So no pictures of our guests.  But we are extremely grateful to everyone who came to celebrate with us!  We are very blessed to know so many wonderful and supportive people here.  
2. We scored when the contractor who's been working on our house offered to let us borrow his nacho cheese machine.  What a hit!  
3. I can't believe I'm saying this:  Hooray for Martha Stewart!  Love the font on this clip art.
4. A few hours before the party, Greg and I realized that no one here really has any clue about Air Force life or what he does in the "real world."  So at the last minute I threw together a collage of some pictures of Greg at different stages of his Air Force career so far.  It was especially fun for our kids to see the pictures.  
5. Adding peanut butter to Nutella is tragic.  Then there is no point to the Nutella.  It will taste like peanut butter.  Not Nutella.   I learned this the hard  way.  (I do not recommend any recipe that calls for combining Nutella with peanut butter.)  
6. Shannon hooked me up with a recipe for lemonade rice crispy treats.  (I think it's this one--but you have to include the white chocolate!  And I always add more than the measly 3 Tbs of butter called for in rice crispy treats these days.)  Very good!  My favorite of the evening--beating out the cake batter ones and even the delicious s'mores version.  (Also, a big thank you to Shannon for, at the last minute, making multiple batches of rice crispy treats.)
7. Favorite comment of the evening:  "Oh, so you're only 3 steps from a general!"  (While this is technically true, our military friends will understand why it's funny.)
8. Can you buy Sprecher soda outside of Wisconsin?  If not, I feel very sad for ya'll who don't get to live here...and drink the best root beer/grape soda/ginger ale/cream soda/cherry cola/orange soda on the planet.  Very sad for you, indeed.

Valentines

These are my sweet valentines, working on their valentines.

I am head over heals infatuated with these two kiddos.

I am so grateful and humbled  and blessed to have them in my life.  Happy Valentines Day to me!

Made bed

This is a picture of Mary's bed.

It's made.

Which was a mystery.

Who had made her bed?  It certainly wasn't me.  I asked Greg if he'd made her bed.  Nope, it wasn't him either.  So that left Mary herself.

Had Mary made her bed?  I wondered how she had even known about the possibility of a made bed--because her bed is NEVER MADE.  Honestly, I believe I have never made her bed.  Ever. Yes, that is how lame I am.  I'm not proud of it--but it's the truth.  Making my kids' beds is that low on my priorities list.  It's a miracle if I get MY bed made.  Sure, I change Mary's sheets regularly.  But even then I don't really make her bed...

So how did Mary know her bed could be made?  Don't children learn primarily from example?

Then I remembered.

Brenda.

So here's the deal.  I broke down and hired a cleaning lady to help me out on Friday.  After having workers in and out of our house for almost a month, the house was a disaster.  And we had fifty people coming over Friday night...fifty people who probably did not want to hang out in dust and filth and clutter.  By Friday morning it was time for reinforcements.  Brenda was great, and, in addition to cranking through my cleaning to-do list with me, she tidied up the kids' bedrooms, including making their beds.

Which brings me to the mystery of Mary's made bed.

Mary made her bed.  She has, in fact, every day since the cleaning lady came.  Brenda opened Mary's eyes to the beauty of a tidy bed.  And it turns out that Mary really likes having a made bed.

Who knew.

Poor girl.  How else am I failing her?  Don't answer:  I'm not sure I'm ready for the answer.  Maybe after I make my bed.

(Or maybe Mary will do it for me.)

Craft!

I did a craft!  And, unlike this time, I actually did it myself!  (Well, my friend Shannon helped me out.  Can I just say I love "visiting" while all the kids are far far away in the basement entertaining themselves?)

Also, in the middle of my craft project last night I signed over the title and gave away the keys of my beloved car.  I know it's going to a good home.  But I was definitely a little misty-eyed.  Life just can't stand still, can it.

Mammals! And fish too!

Monday we "ran away" to the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago. You didn't think I was going to let the week go by without posting plenty pictures of fish, did you?

Our first attempt to visit the Shedd ended this way--which was not bad--but it did make us realize that we should try to visit the Shedd on a less busy day.  So we chose a non-holiday Monday in January.  Greg juggled some things in his schedule, and we excused the kids from school.  It was so worth it!  The crowds were minimal, which made it so much fun.  We had a great time.

Want to see some pictures of fish?

Oops.  I just realized I had the sense NOT to take a picture of everything interesting I saw.  In fact, I pretty much only took pictures of mammals.

The highlight for the kids was the aquatic show...

with the beluga whales

the sea lion

and dolphins.

But these mammals were my very favorites.  They were so happy to be there!

Mary had a huge smile on her face during the show.  She was glowing.  And David was so excited that he fell out of his seat!  (Which reminded me of when David fell out of his seat at Sea World when Baby Shamu made an appearance.  Incidentally, the Shedd goes to great lengths to distance its show from the low-brow likes of Sea World.)

The whole Oceanarium part of the Shedd is new.  (Now the Shedd is on par with the awesome Monterey Bay Aquarium.)  We enjoyed the sea otters and penguins and whales and dolphins and all that.  Very nice.

But I think my favorite was the old school part of the Shedd--the building and tanks and displays that have been there since 1930.  I visited the Shedd waaaay back in the day, when I was in elementary school.  (It was also before I visited the Monterey Bay Aquarium.)  Back then I was amazed by the tanks and tanks of fish.  Now that aquariums are a dime a dozen, the idea of tanks of fish isn't as thrilling.  But the contents of these tanks at the Shedd are incredibly interesting.  (Like my favorites, the old green moray eel and the strange tiny garden eels.  Who knew I was so into eels?)

Greg and I (and the kids too) really liked the Caribbean Reef exhibit.  What was so remarkable was how mature the fish were.  All of these newfangled aquariums might have fancy bells and whistles, but their fish are small and young.  And the truly interesting ones are few and far between.  The fish at the Shedd have been there for ages.

Take Granddad, for instance.  He's been there since 1930!  He's an Australian lungfish, and, yes, he has a lung.  Also, he is probably 100 years old!  (They don't know exactly how old he is--but he was a mature adult when the aquarium acquired him for its opening.)  He's pretty chill.  Even compared with his fellow lungfish companions.

Hey.  Want to see something weird?  A fish taking a gulp of air.

(Really, what is it with Australian fauna?  They just can't follow any of the rules, can they?)

You can't beat Granddad.  So we left on that high note, managing to beat rush hour traffic.

A hop, skip, and a stop at Ikea later, and, soon enough, we were back home in our chaos.  Weary but happy.

By the way, while I was busy running away from my problems, SwindleFun was solving them for me!  As always, very good advice.  (Ask her to solve your problems too!)