...well, not crying. I'm plenty cheerful.
I assumed--silly me--that once our long-planned and long-anticipated Diocesan Council Retreat was over, things would quiet down a bit. Not so.
Yesterday, apart from some campaign busy work, was my recovery day, and very therapeutic. I shifted tender plants from screened porch and deck into their winter quarters inside the house. I pruned and watered and fertilised (the ones setting buds) and sniffed fragrant blossoms.
Then I enjoyed a long soak in the Jacuzzi with Bath salts from Bath (England), while reading a novel and admiring the fresh décor of the master bath.
Today, and the rest of this week, are sheer madness.
I was sorting through New Yorker cartoons--I rip them from the magazine pages and keep little piles of them on my office desk and in the downstairs sitting room for overwhelming moments when I need a smile or a giggle to keep me sane.
Here's an old favourite. I have a great affection for rodents, large and small, and these two shady characters really tickle my fancy.
A month ago, at the National Zoo, the cartoon was top of mind when I encountered this creature:
And this one: