This is the closest I have been to whatever in the hell normal is for weeks.

We aren't moved in yet. I have managed to unpack enough to survive.

It is a wonderful, slightly chilly morning at the old bungalow. The outside temp is a balmy 62 degrees, overcast with sun peeking through the large white fluffy clouds.

I am sitting comfortably on the side porch, having a cup of coffee and a cig. No, I haven't yet quit. The kids are outside in their 'whatever they wore to bed last night' clothes, running up and down the bank that leads to the street, which I managed to weed eat a few days ago.

Their hair isn't combed. They have had their meds and their breakfast. The screen door is latched so Monster won't get out. I don't really care if Monster gets out, but the neighbor kids (3 - two boys and a girl) are over and well, it's just better that way.

It's 10 am.

The house is actually a bungalow. Small, cozy and in town. We have a small front yard, a medium side yard with a nice covered porch and some outdoor furniture left, courtesy of Nursey and Cop....and a large (huge - although not the two acres we did have) back yard, fenced.

I would take pictures and post them, and undoubtedly will, but I havent unpacked the cable that hooks my kick ass Palm phone with the built in camera which is the only camera I have, to my laptop yet, so cannot upload them.

Someday soon perhaps.

I should be inside, unpacking. I should be inside hooking up the slide shower in the bathroom so I don't have to bend over as much to bath the girls.

The list of things I should be doing is rather lengthy. Fuck it.

Because what I AM in fact doing, is absolutely nothing. Well, except I did grab the laptop, and a fresh cup.

the kids are having fun, meeting neighbors. They are in fact, playing which is what they are supposed to do. They are playing Run Chief Run, whatever that is. The other kids live across the street, directly across the street.

Nursey told me not to let the kids play with 'those kids'. Their parents house is in slight disrepair. I don't care Nursey said the parents fight alot, and have lots of parties. I don't care about that either. The kids are polite, and play well. The youngest, K, has something wrong with her. She doesn't walk very well, and talks a bit 'off'. The kids don't care and I don't either. They appear to be close in ages with my three.

The kids just went across the street to their house, after asking if they could, and yes, I let the kids wear their sleep clothes over there.

I can see them in the back yard of the neighbors from the side porch. They have a tree house, a swing set and are putting in an above ground pool, probably the same one I put in. The parents are smarter than me though, THEY had a load of dirt delivered yesterday to level out their ground, something I, or rather more correctly, the person whom I had designated the task to, failed to do.

I had a bit of a meltdown the other night. It was very much not pretty. It happens.

The other day I was taking the girls to the counselor. After filling her in on the weeks happenings, I looked at her and asked..."I just need to know. Do I even approach anything in the vicinity of normal, because I am thinking my life is more like a badly written grade B novel, and if I wasn't actually living it, I wouldn't believe one word of it...."

She said, well, you know, normal is....

I replied..."I know, normal is a setting on my dryer, I am asking you as a friend."

She looked right at me and said...

"you're fucked"

To which I replied. Thank you very much. I need to touch base with other realities occasionally. LOL.

Life is good.