Breakfast in bed.

I heartily recommend it. This goes way beyond a happy meal. I'd call it downright giddy. Three eggs with Tillamook. Buttermilk Eggos. Our own pomegranate jelly. Rather too much of the latter, but I'm celebrating the most recent sheaf of paperwork from the mortgage company. All is well in their little corner of Zion. I will have to call them later and find out if we have a date for closing.

Had a fantabulous massage last night. My ankles, sinuses, and kidneys are all grumbling this morning in consequence, but there's no real pain, just the chug-chug-chugging of bits that are functioning more as they are intended and less as they are accustomed. So, grumbling.

I came home, got out the banjo, and was thrilled to discover that it was still in tune. I turned off the DVD player and practiced the first four exercises for nearly an hour. Then I played Olive for half an hour or more, going back through old lessons.

It's taking me three days to get through this one chapter of Alma, which is not Alma's fault in the slightest. (It's not like that boring but necessary treatise on Nephite coinage which establishes that Zeezrom was offering a month and a half's wages as an incentive to deny the Christ. Senine, schmeenine.)

That's all for today. I need to finish this insanely good breakfast and get ready for work. I don't know if I said it here yesterday. Probably not, because I think I realized it on the drive to work. I finally feel like me again. First time in months. I will never be the me I was before Beloved came into my life, and I'm glad. But I'm learning and discovering again. And I love that.