So Jason let me escape over the weekend and it was just what my mourning soul needed. I went with Tricia to her cabin at Bear Lake (for the record, it really pays to be friends with people who casually own cabins on or near water. It especially pays if you’re willing to watch their kids pro-bono on a regular basis).

And what do you think we did? No-thing. (Okay, we did eat out two nights in a row, and stopped in Logan and saw The Proposal which is almost really cute, minus the really naked scene and lame ending.) We sat around on the deck in our swimsuits, collecing cancer cells and reading 1970 self-help books plucked from a used book store. One of them was extremely…enlightening. It’s amazing what people in the 60’s and 70’s knew about , “ahem”, stuff–to think I was under the impression that our generation was part of some female awareness revolution. Not so.

Anyway, I think my man needs some serious recognition. Not only did he watch the kids until Sunday afternoon, he was about the merriest little maid you’ve ever seen. I left him a load of laundry to wash and fold. He did three. When I came home the house was in decent condition and there were piles and piles of washed and folded laundry publicly displayed all over the dining room.

And to think all these years I’ve been putting them away before he could appreciate my efforts. Lesson learned, my friend.