Here I am in Pennsylvania at Katie’s Revolutionary War-era farmhouse, outside of which it is a dark and stormy night, the classic East Coast winter weather that I miss since I don’t have to put up with it every day. Let me show you around.
This is the Guinea Pig of Doom, whose vindictive squeaking drove Kate to break her leg.
Here’s Sam.
And here are two of the four much-beloved resident youth.
Some wheelchair pix…
This afternoon we turned the mud room into a temporary downstairs bedroom for Katie, to reduce the possibility she’ll wipe out while in transit. She’s now asleep over there — just right over there in the next room. Do you want to see her? Hang on.
Tonight I changed tomorrow’s plane reservation to go back a day later. There’s more I’d like to do to get Katie set up for the gimpy weeks ahead. I wish I could extend the trip even more, till the end of this week after the surgery, but I can’t. Work, doctors’ appointments, and my just-tonight-home-from-college daughter await.
I don’t know where my other daughter is. Her phone is now disconnected and she didn’t called back after saying she’d watch Stella while I was out of town: not a first, but it worries me every time.
Speaking of Stella, she has escaped from Larry’s yard three times already. She’s on my List, big-time.