Large White Undershirts and Resurrecting the Blog

Yes, we are still alive. I know, I fell of the face of the planet for a while. I've had little stamina for blogging these last few days even though I've had much fodder for it. But, I'm back in business, so brace yourselves...

My husband has just informed me that he needs new LARGE WHITE UNDERSHIRTS, so Eli and I will scout out some for daddy tomorrow. Not in a 1950s-obey-your-husband-and-father-he-needs-new-undershirts kind of way, but in a 21st-century-I-know-you-would-do-it-for-me fashion. I've also just ironed his shirt and pants...because I NEVER do it (yeah, I'm not my mother or his), but felt I should (and wanted to) for his first day of work tomorrow. I HATE to iron sleeves. That's the worst part. The rest is really kind of fun (especially with the finishing spray...ooohhh) and makes me feel like I'm restoring order to the great and wrinkled empire of cotton and polyester...or something like that.

I was going to do a "Top Ten Reasons Why We're Glad to Be Back in the South/Texas" list, but I'm tired, and I'm not sure if I've got ten reasons yet, so stay tuned. Things here are swell. Believe it or not, we've actually found a house. Yeah, my second-choice title for this post was going to be "How to Find a House in 3 days", but it lost out to the large white undershirts as you can see. We put in a contract on Friday, and it was accepted Saturday, so barring any eleventh-hour real estate drama, we will close on October 27 and carve a Halloween pumpkin in our new house. It's nice. I'll post pictures soon. Not a 1925 bungalow, but nice. And it's in The Woodlands, which, so we've heard, is a REALLY nice place to be...for the Burbs, at least. And since we've got cable again, I'm reclaiming my status as a slave to HGTV, so I'm having BIG ideas about home improvements. But this time, we're paying someone else to do them.

Eli is well and filling our house with wonder aplenty. One of his latest and greatest amazements is with his hands. Often throughout the day, I'll catch him gazing at them with the fascination of an astronomer uncovering a new dimension of the Universe, inspecting all five fingers, flexing and turning them, and then, usually, promptly inserting them in his mouth. Reverence and irreverence in the same moment. It's a beautiful thing.

Until next time, love (and lights out) from the Lone Star...