Life has been busy exemplified by few blog posts.

We've been filling in for a missing colleague on a small staff.

Kid visited for five days.

Mom is moving to hospice.

To say it's been busy is misleading. And that has caused some radio silence here on the blog.  I've found myself breathing deeply, meditation style and just accepting I'll make it through days which begin as a sprint and end with me, hands on knees, attempting to refill my lungs with air.

With it all, there have been great celebrations. Kid is a joy. She's intelligent and funny and I can say the worst jokes of all time and she responds with this new, guttural laughter that seems to come with adulthood. It's as though she's become a grownup. (She did about 10 years ago. I just might not have noticed as I see her perpetually as a 6-year-old.)

I must keep in mind that what does not kill me, lowers my immune system so that the next, smaller challenge will end me.

Kid is a hero in town because I only talk about her. She gets hugs and drinks and true friendship and all of it warms my heart, just as the tawny port we sipped on each evening.

Kid made an alla vodka sauce with fusilli that was restaurant level good. I provided the salad and garlic bread and we sipped on a decent bottle of Tempranillo. We talked to a nearby tavern for some Bailey's, which we refer to as the evening milkshake

We played as much pool as possible and for the first time since I taught her the game, I was skunked. I lost every game.

When I dropped her off at the airport, I said to her as she walked away, "I'm not crying -- you are." She responded, "I love you," I said, "Go to hell."

Thus it is with sons of the Wisconsin Northwoods.

Work, pathos and comedy.

Such is life.

Peace unto Ukraine and peace unto you my brothers and sisters.