Tom's home!

We had such an excellent reunion last night . . . a lovely combination of "I'm so glad to be home" and "I had so much fun" (on his part) and "I'm so glad you're here" and "I did well on my own" (on my part)--and now here we are, in our accustomed weekend-morning places: me downstairs with my coffee cup, Tom in bed with his coffee cup, and the cat snarling and stomping and complaining about the rain.

Because it is pouring out there . . . a windy, drenching, baseball-opening-day-canceling sort of storm, battering roof and windows and driving the cat to distraction--Tom's very favorite bed-lounging weather, though I, unfortunately, have got to put on a raincoat and drag the bins to the curb. Not that I begrudge him his lounging. He's spent two weeks away from the magnificent bed.

With the exception of my trash chore, today will start at whatever pace it feels like starting. All of the editing is now off my desk (for the moment), so I'll be able to concentrate on classwork, which won't take all day. I need to make another visit to the computer repair guys to ask if my now non-working camera was a casualty of the screen replacement. I want to go to the fish market, and Tom has a giant pile of dirty laundry that I'll offer to do for him. Mostly, though, I'm hoping to hang around with this guy I like. I think I've told you about him.