The Vacation that Never Was

I guess Will the Stones Change Hands will have to wait. Sorry, Blue Lyon. I just don’t have time right now, but I am tucking it away and will get around to it sooner or later, especially if the topic of Iran heats up again. I think it’s going to be all Michael all the time for the next few days.

Right now I am in the process of moving, AGAIN! Crap, weren’t we just here last year? Yes, I believe I blogged our move last year. This time, hopefully, it’s for a while. I am finally going to realize my life-long dream of becoming a farm wife. Not really. Tee hee.

Seriously, we are moving out, out, out to the country, where I always did want to live. Been a city-girl all my life, growing up in Houston, Texas and moving to Louisville, Kentucky as a tweenager, where I resided for 20 years before making the jump across the Ohio River to southern Indiana. It’s still the “Greater Louisville Metro area,” though. This time we’re moving 20 more minutes out, to a tiny spot on the map called Borden. My husband’s family hails from there, and we’re going back to help care for his 85 year old grandfather. “Grandpa” is a former Marine who saw action in the South Pacific, which was the only time he’s ever lived away from Borden. He’s in fine health, but he’s getting up there in age, and we want to make sure he stays healthy and is well cared for to the end. Since Mr. Peacock is a nurse, it just made sense.

So even though I’m on “vacation” for a week, I’m afraid I won’t get the rest I need, or the time to write I want. Maybe I’ll be able to steal a few hours here or there, but I think that’s ambitious considering all the work we still have to do. Anyway, just wanted you to know that I was still alive out here.

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