I’m not gone. Really. I have two weeks to go until the Craft Council Fine Craft Fair and I’m more or less running in top gear and only switching lanes when necessary. John is experiencing some sort of legal equivalent that involves things called “claims presentations” and “mechanics’ liens”. At least, I think the  guy walking around our bedroom in his underwear this morning that looked like John. I’m in real trouble if he wasn’t.

The house is a shambles, the kid is watching too much tv and we’re living on grab-and-run food like sandwiches, yogurts, granola bars, veggies and dip and pizza. In other words, we’re living the life of two overworked parents with no time and little room for error.

If we haven’t called, emailed or visited you, it’s not that we don’t love you. It’s probably that we can’t find the phone for the mess and have brains so fried that we no longer remember your number. This chaos shall pass. Give us another two weeks.