Routine, Routine, where have you been? I miss you! Come back! I flail like a flapping sail without you. Yesterday you returned, just for a bit, and I baked a pie. I put double topping on it, because it felt like the right thing to do, and I wanted you to stay. The days have been a little chaotic, the house tousled, the yard undone, coughing and Kleenex from one corner to the next and me unable to decide if I'm hot, or cold, or hot, or freezing, or if hellity hell I'm boiling up. Andy made us chicken soup. Amelia and I huddled under (and then on top of, and then under, and then on top of) quilts on the chaise lounge, watching The Aristocats three times in three days. Before things got really gross and I started blowing my nose without pause, we met her birth-grandparents down at the Flock and Fiber Festival (her grandma is an amazing spinner, weaver, and knitter, and her grandpa makes four-foot-long knitting needles, just for fun! So awesome). I bought a rag rug and came home with plans for a new knitted sweater-coat for my girl, but now can't decide on a pattern. If you have an iPad, you can surf Ravelry while your kid draws all over the TV screen with a taper candle and you will barely notice! Ah, Monday. And a slightly cleared head. Both came just in time. We planned to rein it in. We walked to the grocery store and bought apples and cheese. I made lunch at actual noon and brushed my hair. Andy mowed the lawn. I drank orange juice and water instead of doing shots of Airborne and elderberry syrup. Amelia ate an entire sandwich. We're back. Here we are. And that was September.
***Somewhere in there, I also made African Chicken Peanut Stew? And, if you've hung around here for even a second or two, you've likely heard me bleat about my apple pie. . . .