here and posting ... a miracle

Yes, I am finally here and it is no small miracle that I am posting since my computer has been behaving badly, refusing to enter the 21st-century wireless connection and clinging to the old dinosaur dial-up of the woods. I'm sitting on a big porch in the twilight drinking Mountain Dew and eating lemon curd cupcakes and recovering from sleeping on a plane-sized bed with 200 other people. There was really very little sleep involved, partly because the man next to me was behaving badly and snoring loudly. In the middle of the night I woke up and almost elbowed him and told him to roll over, then remembered I was not home and he was much bigger than Randy and there really is no rolling over on a plane. So I just let him snore. I wouldn't mention it except he doesn't know me from Adam and the idea of really sleeping on a night flight is a huge joke!

The trip to Panera's for quiche and coffee made me forget I missed 8 hours sleep. And being home again is heavenly. I'm actually warm and going barefoot as we speak (or I post or whatever you want to call it). So I've just done a wonderful jumble of things in the last 24 hours - consumed vast quantities of garlic cheese grits and pork, toured a 200 year old log cabin, bought that dogwood bracelet at the Log House, listened to a live banjo concert outdoors, been to Wal-mart for deodorant, visited a Spanish bakery, toured the Mitchell Tolle gallery and bought one of his log cabin prints. Oh, and I've even had some time to sleep - 12 hours last night. Finally tonight I realized my throat was getting kind of sore from all that talking. My mom and I haven't stopped since we first saw each other at the airport. Our family has never been one for long, poignant silences like Randy's. This afternoon I realized I only have 7 days left so began to compile a list of all those things I have yet to see and do.

Good thing nobody reads this blog except for family mostly as this is just the silliest post. Forgive me if I'm still sleep-deprived and not making sense. Tomorrow we drive to Frankfort and see Daniel Boone's grave (and Rebecca's) and stay at an old inn. No rest for the wicked, I guess, and the righteous don't need none. Isn't that how the saying goes? I've never understood it till now. Hope to post again from downtown Berea soon - specifically Ground Effects coffee shop. Till then!