This Thursday will be the official halfway mark of all of this. Dad is faithfully keeping track, much like in the grand tradition of counting down to summer vacation. He is a bus driver after all, you'd count too. So on we trudge straight up to the peak. Ostensibly, the ride down should go faster, right?
She is stalking our broccoli. And cauliflower. And tomatoes. She can't have any uncooked fruits or veggies and to say she's got a hankerin' would be an understatement. But, at least she has an appetite and for that we are grateful. When we are done, I will make her a three-tiered veggie cake with ranch frosting. You know, when I was a baby, she ate so many carrots that she turned orange. True story. She loves the veg.
We had a lovely visit with my mother-in-law this afternoon. Miss Jane seemed thrilled to talk to someone who wasn't a either blood relative or operating the giant microwave. Her social circle has been rather pathetic as of late. We bumped into ladies from church on Saturday and she did everything short of click her heels. I'm trying not to take this all personally.
Ruth and Alex are home and healing. Thank you for the extra prayers. I'm sure that the entire Broadhurst clan is taking up a good chunk of time at night for some of you. We appreciate your faith and will try our hardest to remain unhospitalized.
And finally, proof that dogs are smarter than cats. The two nincompoops are still hissing at each other through the doors. We have had one fur-flying fight. I was quickly able to disperse the participants by banging the baby's stroller up and down on top of the dummies. I'm either going to put them in their boxes right next to each other for a few days or tie their tails together. It will probably come down to a coin toss.
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