That's my Spanish word-of-the-day. Desmayarse=to faint.
I came home from a great, short trip to Utah with Graham. It was just nippy enough there to be cozy, the leaves are flaming reds and oranges, and there's lots of wonderful family and friends, a new baby named William, and temples all over.
When I came home today to a spotless house, I almost fainted with joy. Rich hung the mirror in our bedroom, folded and put away all the whites I'd washed before I left, and finished a big chunk of the deck. All while nursing Isaac who had a 24-hour flu. He's the greatest.
But I wasn't home for long before I started feeling crappy. Hot and sticky. Grumpy. Like I was going to faint. Why in the world people chose to settle in hot places, I never can understand. I also likely felt this way because I had been up since 4 am to catch our flight home. So I took a nap while the boys played outside (never good sleeping), and woke up sweating like crazy. I finally went downstairs and looked at the thermostat. 83 degrees and the heater was on! I remembered then that Rich had said it got cold enough over the weekend that he had to turn the heat on. And had not turned it off, apparently. Amazingly enough, five minutes later, with cool air blowing on me and the temp at only 2 degrees cooler (81!), life looks much better in Austin.
But I still sorta want to move back to Utah. Sorta.
1 comment:
gracias por venir:) it was so great to see you, as it always is, my dear! thanks for taking the time to visit. you are the best. good luck with Rich's new job, that can be scary yet very exciting/rewarding.
btw, we would still love to have you move back to Utah, too:)
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