Been Home a Week

We have now been home a week. That's a long time. A 52nd of a year. A long time to not even start writing about our adventures. Writing is how I process what I've learned. I write for myself, not for the ten of you who read the posts. 

How have we spent the past week?

Don had two more doctors' appointments. One planned. One because of his leg. He also had three shifts at work. Two back to back. As he works on his feet now, they wore him out so he slept more.

I went to the grocery store twice and the library three times. About par for a typical week. I also went for a run and several long walks.

We both slept. A lot. Jet lag can only account for so much. At some point we have to recognize we are depressed about the election results. About what that means for us (I heard another NPR story saying Americans are becoming more individualistic). What it means for our daughter and her generation. What it means for marginalized Americans. What it means globally. I am frozen into inability to do anything. I'm sure longer posts will be about all that.

I went with a friend to see friends in a play. Carolyn to see Jonathan and Mike on stage.

I met up with another friend (Courtney) to participate in Flemington's Thanksgiving service.

We hosted a Thanksgiving service our house that turned into tea and sympathy.

I helped friends put together 200 meals they will deliver on Thanksgiving. Sorry, no picture.

I unpacked. That took longer than one would imagine, especially since we travelled lightly.

I did trip laundry. That did not take that long because a few days before we came home we washed most of our belongings in Jo and Andrew's new washing machine.

I worried because when I turned my storage computer on it did not seem to have 3 and a half years of photos on it. Thank you, Bart, for being calm when I needed that, and for actually finding my pictures.

I read four books about women finding themselves. Seems to be my current genre. My old one was what I call "grown up Nancy Drews."

I binge watched "The Man on the Inside" starring Ted Danson. On the long flight home I binge watched the new "Frasier." Guess I'm regressed to rooting for 1990's TV stars.

I donated cans to the church pantry. Twice. It is small, but it is something.

I thought about posts I wanted to write, but did not write them.

I ached for someone to snap me out of my funk. To tell me the way I'll feel better is by writing; by culling my trip photos; by eating better; by having some ice cream and chocolate; by running again; by talking to friends; by planning my next trip; by having someone really listen to me.

I need to focus on the parts of that list that are within my control, hence the writing.

The trip posts will be dated on the days the activities happened. Keep your eyes out for topics of interest.

Now I'm going downstairs to eat, because that's also in my control.