Recovery

I am tired. and I have a cold. But I am home, and that is bliss.

Apparently while I was gone, Judah asked "When is Annie coming back to me?" and Glorie grew two inches. They are darling and I love coming home to the crew that I did!!

Last night I was late on the numbering list for boarding. Southwest has this funny system where they treat you like cows instead of humans...except then they give you free checked bags and great drink service. I ended up far back in the airplane (thank you thank you Ferrill for giving me the seat you did!) surrounded by interns. Bless the interns for all the work they did all week, but there is a time for singing and a time for quiet, and I think those interns need a little bit more teaching on the book of Ecclesiastes.

The descent was terrible. I have a cold, and was all stuffed up with runny nose and everything. I'm fully convinced that the newest method of torture could be infecting someone with the common cold germ and then putting them on an airplane. I cried. Ferrill encouraged me that they would pop and just to swallow hard and I brushed away tears and longed to be on the ground and home. Oh, to be home and in a bed by myself.

Then on the way home someone yelled, "Somebody sing a song now!" and I cringed. But I did get home, and I slept soundly and deeply. I'm still sniffly, and my energy level is docked about fifty percent, but I am delighted to be listening to Ariel singing about Jesus right this second and smooching Judah over and over and over again.