State of the State of Margaritaville

The girl has gone. The girl's mother and her siblings, having come to retrieve her, have also gone. But before that, there was a boat ride attended by a mega pod of dolphins. Literally thousands of them. Though I did not manage to capture any of their leaps on that day of beauty and wonder emerging from its gray skies. Next time I will video.

There was also a tea party during which I channeled Maggie Smith and asked to be addressed as Granny.

There was a trip to the local children's museum where girls got ridiculous and ants got industrious.

Seriously, if I had one of those Ant Works things, I would never get anything done. Then again, maybe it would inspire me to work harder at everything.

The gift shop at the children's museum sells fabulous handmade wooden toys and a local label of refried beans.

I totally wish I'd bought some.

The report from Pillville is quite encouraging. My mom's foot is not causing her any pain, and the latest angioplasty has officially been declared a success. At her latest visit to the gastroenterologist, she weighed in at 120 lbs. The skeletal look is gone. And she's sleeping better. The visit from the great-grand children should be bottled as a miracle cure. 

My friend Paula arrived for a visit just a couple of hours after the grandchildren and their mother left. Paula and I met on a trip to Greece in 2009. I was still a complete wreck, mourning the end of my marriage.

We had an amazing chat tonight as we sat in front of the fire chasing away June gloom's chill. The chat revealed to me that I am over my divorce. I was somewhat stunned by that realization. Divorceville seems so very far from Margaritaville now--as though it was an ancient lost city, a defunct civilization with a dead language, inundated by the sea lost forever beneath the waves.