Home Alone

Let me go ahead and apologize to everyone who wants the broccoli and cheese soup recipe. I was halfway to work this morning when I realized I'd forgotten the cookbook at home. I thought about turning around, but there was no time. So I swear to post it on Monday, and in the meantime, I beg your forgiveness.

So, as I mentioned yesterday, Ty got home last night from a six-night stay in North Dakota. I didn't actually realize anyone vacationed in the Dakotas, but who was I to argue. He and four other guys went up there to hunt various forms of wildlife.

Ty being out of town conjures up the following emotion in me:

A constant state of panic that someone is going to break into my house while I'm there. I'm no Macaulay Culkin. I don't have cardboard cutouts to dance in the windows, marbles to put at the base of the stairs or a paint can to swing off the upstairs banister. By those standards, I'm defenseless.

I hate being home alone, which is a strange new twist in my life considering I lived alone for many years and loved it. But we're in a new house now ... with lots of doors that I lie in bed and wonder if I've actually locked. I did things this week that I never do.

I stayed up past 10:30.

I let the dogs sleep in the bed.

With all this being said, I was thrilled to see Ty walk in the door last night. I was thrilled to have him sleeping next to me. And I was thrilled to get the best night's sleep I've had in about a week.