Haars and Gullywashers

Thank you, friends, for all your sweet words of commiseration and encouragement re: homeowner's insurance. I had utterly forgotten that my parents went through a similar fiasco years and years ago, so I should've had that tucked away in the back of my mind and not been quite so shocked. The update is that it looks like we'll be covered by a friendly insurance company (friendly until a TREE FALLS ON OUR HOUSE, that is), but we do need to get a home inspection first. Blerg.

I learned a new word today, haar. Which is what you call a fog that sweeps in off the North Sea in Scotland. I think, no I know that we have those here too. As I write this, the sun has emerged, but we've had days of haars and gullywashers* around here lately.**

My girl is fine. Better than fine! We did a long three day stretch with no news (the Internets are spotty where she is). Even her sweetheart was getting a little nervous.

We went out for Indian food the other night and Mark made friends with the woman there (we've known her for years, but never asked her story), who ended up inviting us to stay in her "big house" in Punjab. She also said Zoë should stay there and speak Hindi with the woman's mother, any time!

I am a little hooked on goat milk. I need to start buying the low fat kind. Or a goat. This morning when I was filling the bird feeder, I had a sad little fantasy that I was out there feeding my imaginary chickens.

Way back in October, David gave me a subscription to Quarterly, and I've been receiving goodies in the mail periodically ever since. Yesterday I got a set of Buckyballs (can I just tell you how excited Isaac was when he saw them?) and this patch:

just exactly, precisely, when I needed it.



*my spell checker doesn't recognize either haar or gullywasher.

**and just as I get ready to publish this, what should I see outside my window, but another gullywasher!