"I know you're homesick," a friend told me this weekend. "You've been complaining about Texas ever since you got back."
Let's not dramatize things (although, I confess, I have been snubbing Texas quite a bit as late - going into a Texas shop in the mall didn't help). But I don't mean that kind of homesick. Like wanting to be where it's cooler, and there are trees, and the whole landscape isn't covered in pavement. I mean the sincere kind. Which hasn't hit me in a while. But it did this weekend.
No, not because the house was a like a tomb with only me banging about in it. Or because I lost the fight with the weed-eater and wished my dad were just here to do it. Or because the Texas temperatures continue to sore to 100 without a raincloud or break in sight. It's just for the first time in 31 years, I'm not on the family vacation.
Not that we had a lot of vacations, but I did grace each of them with my presence. But this week my family is in Chicago and then they'll meet an aunt and cousin in Santa Claus, Indiana for a day at an amusement park. I hope they think of me while they're enjoying their rest - and then I hope they don't...
Meanwhile, work piles up around me. And despite a long weekend with more than one nap, I feel like I can barely keep my eyes open. I'm going to have one last bout with the weed-eater, which shall probably be highly unsuccessful, but I will make the attempt. And there's a bit more mowing to do around the outside of the fence. Need to balance my bank accounts and put my expenses in order. Some things need to be printed from my laptop, and I have some pictures to edit. All in all, not much to look forward to this week. But I do have plans to attend a Rangers game on Friday. It will insufferably hot, but our assistant pastor is singing The Star Spangled Banner. And I'll be with friends. Guess that just about makes up for the Texas heat - sort of.
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