Suddenly things are starting to feel right. My room is nearly put together, and I'm much happier with it. I put photos back on the window sill, dusted the dresser tops, and hung up my favorite painting. I pulled a large golden pothos into here, and set it up on my fabric cabinet. Then I opened a box I have wanted to get into for almost eight years. It contained the pottery masque I made in New Mexico, that never had a safe home here until now. I hadn't even seen the face of my "Buddha of the Americas" since it was packed up in Charleston. I greeted it like an old friend. I dug into the padding that was under it, and was thrilled to learn that it had an easel to sit in, so I could call off my search for one in stores here. I placed it with its back against the large pothos, as a cushion just in case it gets pushed backwards. As I had labeled its box, it is irreplaceable.
My pills arrived today, sixteen days since they shipped. I don't know what shenanigans happened during its side trip to Albuquerque, but all three of the sealed bottles of tamoxifen are swollen on the bottom. Not sure how much of a stink to raise about that.
Yesterday I spilled the dregs of my coffee on the rug, so today I brought Valerie over to help me shampoo the carpet. She totally digs watching the rug cleaning videos on YouTube with us, and she likes to talk to my steam cleaner like it's a pet. She had fun hanging out with grandma, cleaning and snacking and being silly.
No one had the mental energy to put together a D&D night, but most of us were on board to gather and play a card game. This may be the last time we really get to do this, as the neighbors are preparing to move. I'm still in denial that they are really going. She's going first, with the baby, and he will go after we sell the house. At least we had this joyous chaos to hold us over until we see whether they will stay with us and play remote games on Wednesdays.
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