Floundering

Dave said to me last night, "You should blog." And I replied, "I'm too muddled to blog!" But in the firm belief that my husband knows me well and has good ideas, and that writing helps to clarify thinking, here goes.

We are floundering. Almost all of us.

Mom is increasingly nauseous, critical, stubborn, and spacey.

I am snappish, short, and really I just want to go read a book on a beach somewhere, when what I actually need to do is buck up and unpack all these boxes. As a compromise, I'm eating everything in sight.

Dave is under the weather and needs to finish up his doctoral reading and papers before next Sunday when he goes to California for his last on site two week session. Stress, anyone?

Karis just returned from Disney with her nanny family.
Meg is on her third week of a minimester of sophomore level BritLit.
Nate is surly.
Ev is weepy.

With our church, we are grieving the loss of a lovely lady in her 60s who passed away this past week after a two year struggle with a brain tumor, leaving a husband, two daughters, and four young grandchildren.

Cancer is evil and death sucks. There's my clear thinking.