"Anders," I call, not moving my head from the arm of the chair. "How old am I going to be on my birthday?" Figuring he's lived with me and my math disability long enough, he'll take a question like this in stride, and he does.
"29," he answers, with absolutely no hesitation.
"Oh!" I start laughing and sit up. "I love you, honey."
This is the middle of my first week of vacation. So far I have read 3 books, painted 3 coats of paint on a sofa, table and 2 chairs, emptied and cleaned and neatly tidied the pantry, cleaned out and tidied the 2 big computer room closets, edited the recordings of 8 cassette tapes into their separate songs, gone for 3 walks, cleaned out the bill-paper holder and filed all the documents therein, transferred the content of one section from the old website to the new, gone grocery shopping, talked to my mom, my sister and my brother, and directed Anders in the removal of all the plants except 5 from the front garden bed. He dug the whole thing up today and dumped the top grass layer along with most of the overgrown weedy garden into a giant container that is hulking in our driveway. He's planning on laying down rocks and making it very pretty and best of all, weed-free. The to-do list on the desk in front of me has only 8 things on it!
What? This IS my idea of a relaxing vacation!
Really Great Writing Out There Right Now: Go Fish