Truth is, I returned home at the same time Chitunga was arriving from the train. Michael returned from Philly and he was watching Netflix upstairs. Glamis was thrilled I was home, and I immediately dumped my week of soiled clothing into the washing machine.
I then had to figure out what happened. Tunga, for Father's Day, did a total Bryan thing. He cleaned and rearranged everything (just like I used to do with my mother's house). I don't know where anything is and the garage is loaded with items ready to be sent to the trash (most necessary, but some by his choice).
The dining room, which was set up as a guest bedroom this summer, was taken down for aesthetic reasons and the t.v. stand, which is wonderful and perfect, is actually a book case that doesn't necessarily fit into the corner its interned for (a Father's Day gift I love, but we both might need to reconsider).
And I returned to a house that smells like Glamis. She needs a bath and I was overwhelmed by the dog smell when I came to Mt. Pleasant. I no longer will have my beach scenes, dolphins and nightly run-through of Grace and Frankie. But I'm home and I'm ready to kick of the Fairfield CWP Institute. I have a lot of ideas, new energy and much enthusiasm for what is possible.
But for today, a Thursday, I am wiped. I need to regroup, rethink, rework and redo. That's my goal for the next few days, but I know I got this.
First things first. Glamis gets a bath.
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