I'm back home, slowly responding to e-mail and catching up on work. If you're waiting to hear from me and haven't yet -- hopefully by tonight.
In other news somebody is now potty trained. Pip pip. This means he runs out of bathrooms and restrooms yelling "Mommy" or "Daddy, I pee-peed!" and we high five him hollering how HAPPY he's made us.
It's OK, we're used to turning heads.
Bedtime is still a little precarious, but that's OK too.
On vacation I read 7 poetry books (Birds and Fancies by Elizabeth Treadwell, The Book of Sleep by Eleanor Stanford, The Second Person by C. Dale Young, The Stunt Double in Winter by Robyn Art, Rarer and More Wonderful by Trevor Calvert, Dummy Fire by Sarah Vap and My Brother is Getting Arrested Again by Daisy Fried) and a literary journal (Phoebe, Spring 2008).
None of them sucked. In fact, I recommend them all.