It's not Amway

"I'd like to share the good news with you."

Growing up in the South, this was a warning sign. Someone was either about to talk to you about Jesus or Amway. The latter involved a lengthy pitch that ended with a soap-buying spree. The former was much shorter and ended in either a cult or being tipped backwards into some type of water - a lake, river or in most cases a small pool.

Maybe I'm just too nervous to talk about good things. Maybe I'm afraid I'll jinx it and bad things will happen. Or maybe I'm just afraid I'll be mistaken for Mormons.

I"m finally feeling back to normal. So is Duncan. So is Russ. Wednesday night, Duncan sat in the kitchen with me for hours and helped me make Irish Brown bread for cheese club at work and a coconut cake for no reason in particular. We had a good time. Russ is feeling much better and getting ready to end one of his medications. I've started running again. I tried to pick up where I left off, but too much time had passed. My knees weren't keen on the idea of running 9 miles last week. Or 8 or 7. They gave out after 2. So, I have to start over a bit. Today, we would have been touring Dublin and getting over jetlag. Maybe seeing Kilmainham jail or the Book of Kells again, or perhaps St. Patricks Cathedral for Good Friday. Instead, I'm putting in a composter. We leave for Hawaii on April 11. I'm very excited about that trip, even though it's uncharacteristic of us to a. visit a crowded city and stay there and b. not go to the UK. Well, got shake it up I guess.

And I'm not complaining. I'm not. I'm thinking. And learning. And trying to figure out what happened. I know who I was going in, but I need to figure out who I am coming out. It's all been like an Easy-bake oven. And I'm that crappy little metal pan that you used to fill with a tiny amount of cake batter and let it cook under a light bulb. If you left it in too long, it didn't really burn so much as dry up around the edges. Hopefully, I'm still moist. Although I've been under the light bulb too long.