Back to the grind.

We pulled back into our neighborhood last night after a rainy, boring, 7-hour drive back from Maine, where E and I attended the memorial service for my grandmother and spent some quality time with family, including my littlest niece, the 18-month old wonder, Avery. She is smart, adorable, and sassy as all get-out. She seriously gives dirty looks better than I do, and I've had more than 2 decades longer than she has to figure it out.

The first order of business when I got to the apartment was to cook something delicious. We left Saturday afternoon, and kicked the trip off with a visit to Burger King's drive through. The next 3 days were a whirlwind of fast food pit stops, gluttonous hors d'oeuvres spreads, and dinners out with family -- all delicious, very little nutritious. It had gotten so bad that my body was shouting "GIVE ME GREENS!" to my brain from about noon Sunday til we got home. I raided the fridge for whatever salvageable produce was left, and made a veggie stirfry that soothed the craving a bit, but at this point I'll be happy if I never see the inside of a McDonald's again.

Either way, it's good to be home. The cat has probably never been happier to see us. She's the only cat I know whose owners can disappear for days on end and she doesn't even try to pretend to be mad at them when they return. She's been on our laps any time one of us stops moving, and was getting kicked around at our feet as we slept all night. Poor lonely, codependent kitty.