I'M NOT EVEN LOOKING FOR NORMAL, JUST A COMFORT ZONE!

Here I sit in the Liberty Tax Office in Pocatello, Idaho....................It was a high of 22* today and the wind has been blowing like the end of the world. I have tried to be a help to Richard, but remember I can only count to 20, fingers and toes, and the rest of math problems make me sick at my stomach. So I am here pretty much to keep Richard company and to be his hospitality hostess! I greet people with a smile, in an accent they don't understand, ask them if they'd like something to drink, get them started on paperwork if we are busy.........Business comes in spurts, busy, not busy, etc. So glad I brought a book to read. Plus, Richard never thinks about eating so at 7 PM tonight I reminded him that I had had popcorn (thank heavens there was some in the back room) and a granola bar left over from my purse. I don't think he or I even have had a drink of water. When we finally walked across the street and got something to eat I reminded him that I was sure this plan was not from the "Biggest Loser," reality show. Of course, he will lose but that won't happen to me.

Then the only other option I have is to go "Home!" Meaning our basement apartment. Oh my word, I am so glad my mother can't see this with her own eyes. I am trying not to believe it myself. I am just floored, speaking of flooring or lack of it..........I know that the furniture is from our old home in Liberal. When you see the pictures you will see the chair that looks just like our old couches! Vinyl chairs, linoleum, pipiing that goes over the whole ceiling of the apartment. I am terrified to know exactly where or what is in those pipes. I am really terrified to go home because I need to take a shower. Wait until you see the pictures of our "shower." When the wind is blowing, as we speak, the windows and walls kind of suck in and out. I know there are a few pieces that I need to call Antiques Roadshow about. I am not cooking in that kitchen, I only go to the bathroom out of necessity!

So to my children who feel compassion for their "father," only, I am trying to do my best and feel like a darned good sport just to have been here one day! I am not that much help and I am not whining Kelly! What happened to compassion for me all of these years? Oh yea, I get that from my Mother, bless her soul. Thanks Mom for worrying about me.