The family comes back tomorrow. Himself keeps asking if I miss them, or if I am lonely. Truthfully, I haven't had much time to think about it...I've been out caching or with the dog, or outside in the garden, almost the whole time they've been gone. I've not been doing a whole lot of sitting at all, which is a good thing since the things I am doing are things of my choice and I've been able to indulge in the luxury--generally speaking--of doing whatever the hell I want to do, whenever I want to do it. (The generally speaking part refers to the dog, who would like my company occasionally.)
I don't think much about being here alone at all except at night. I take care with securing the house and turning on the alarm, and I've been sleeping with these right next to me, to hand on Himself's side of the bed.
Some people use a baseball bat or gun...me, I have my trusty nunchuks. Can't you just see me going after a house-invading marauder in my PJs with those in my hand?? Hey...you go with the weapon you're familiar with, and I love my chuks.
It will almost be strange to have the noise and confusion and mess back tomorrow. I guess this is how the other side lives...it's been so long since I lived alone that it is alien to me now!
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