Three Hours Later

Got a lot of emails sent checking with workers to see if they have been matched. More often than not, the answer is no, they haven’t been, but I still ask, hoping to hear that some of them have found a family.

It’s been a fairly decent night in our home. Bart has been making his famous Monster Cookies and whistling in the kitchen, making feel that all is well. These cookies are so good they have reportedly caused hangovers. The kids have gotten along fairly well, our guests are fitting in nicely, and John was as pleasant as he gets tonight. The push-pull thing is as annoying as can be. He came up to my room to chat tonight, gave me a hug, acted like we’ve had a great week together. Mind boggling for me.

Now we’re waiting for the last of the cookies to come out of the oven and then we’ll be ready for bed. Everyone is where they are supposed to be, but nobody’s asleep yet.

I was pretty flattered when someone asked why I didn’t site the author to this poem. I wrote it and figured everyone would know that I did. So having someone think someone else did made me feel good.

I am also surprised at myself because I am way more nervous about doing the Radio Program tomorrow night than I am speaking to large crowds of people.