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It just gets better and better.

We're back in our home. For the moment. We'll get the thumbs up or thumbs down on whether everything's dry enough to shut off the fans today. (Cross your fingers that the Holiday Inn won't play happy host for another night.) But this week's a wash (errgh...no water jokes, please) for us, workwise. We're taking the whole week off to clean the house, catch up on laundry, and grumble.

To make matters worse, Henry was up half the night hacking and coughing and snotting away. At 3 a.m., I had a lovely conversation about phlegm and wheezing with the woman answering the hospital's 24-hour nurse advice line. Following her advice, we gave him warm apple juice and corn syrup that I stole from the hotel's continental breakfast pantry. And we turned the shower on hot and full blast and sat in the bathroom, in a makeshift steam room.

When I arrived back at the house this a.m., the MRGs were back, finishing up the roof, trimming shingles, picking up their mess. They had a ladder propped against the house to use for easy access. It sat right in front of the door, which meant I would have had to walk right underneath it to get in the house.

I chose to take the garage entrance, instead.
Can you blame me?

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