Sleep. I continue to wonder why I am awake. Ah, I have to be at the airport in just over an hour. I am awake to meet my familial responsibilities. I got up at six thirty and made my nephew two ham sandwiches on Wonder white bread with mayo and Kraft “cheese” singles. I put these sandwiches with a Little Debbie snack cake shaped like a Christmas tree and a fruit cup shaped like a cup of fruit into a brown paper sack. He ran off to the bus and I walked Blue, the large Weimaraner (http://www.akc.org/breeds/recbreeds/weim.cfm) that ate my favorite sweater yesterday. He tore the collar from my white wool Irish cable knit and I am verklempt. Ah well, sometimes the universe demands sacrifices and I had a very nice weekend so goodbye sweater. I need a new wardrobe anyway.

It hasn’t stopped gray misty sputter raining since Saturday morning. The world screams nap and there is still much turkey in my system. Only the wings remain uneaten at this not so late date. So if there were a bird, and if it were alive, it could have its wings back and fly away, if it weren’t a large flightless bird.

I am in a funk – a deep ression – I hope I don’t leave you with the imp ression that my funk is serious, as my imp will emerge from the cleft of my ression, as he always does, and spirit me away on clouds of frivolity. But before the imp is allowed to harangue me with homunculi humor I must make haste to the hanger and help sister and ward with their return from parts Texan.

They are returning sad as Camilla’s uncle, Merisel’s husband, was called up for service in Iraq yesterday. Just days before her husband was asked to risk his life as a doctor in Iraq Merisel spent several hours being harassed by federal agents and was almost not readmitted to the country post shopping jaunt to Mexico. She and her young girls may come and live here in St. Louis when he leaves, before they return to Chile in March. They may be done with America and all of its promises.