Home, for Certain Values Of...

I spent last week in L.A. with my aunt and uncle, who are going through some medical stuff, partly doing logistics (what on earth does that paperwork actually mean? and let's not double or triple book all the doctors' appointments), partly doing errands (yes, I will remember the butter pecan ice cream), and partly cooking and making my aunt laugh.*  Around the edges, working on revising my resumes (one for admin, one for writing/editorial), and cruising job boards.  And I'm doing a re-read of all the Tolerance books, so as to create a bible of sorts, and making furious notes.  So no writing this week, but earnest attempts to pre-write, if such a thing exists.

And now I am back home.  Danny is in L.A. at a trade show (it's like summer and smoke, without the Tennessee Williams dialogue), and it's just me and Emily, who has suffered from the comings and goings of the family (first Older Daughter moved out.  Then I went to Europe.  Then Younger Daughter moved away to college.  Now I keep skipping off to SoCal.  Then I come back and Daddy goes.  What's a doggle to do?).

I will go off to the NorCal RenFaire today to see Julie and her sweetie in the cast.  I will attempt to do some more work on my resume (hate hate hate).  I will feed the dog.   I will revel in being in my own house for a week.  Sufficient unto the day... at least until the Tuesday after next, when I go rocketing off to L.A. again to see what mischief my relatives have gotten into in my absence.

*it isn't my cooking that makes my aunt laugh, really.