Discombobulated.  What a great word!

That’s how I’m feeling, now that we’re back in Rhode Island.  I’m finding it hard to get my feet underneath me, literally and figuratively.

Yesterday I went to town for a hair cut.  I had it cut short, just because I was sick of looking at myself and needed a new vision in the mirror.  It’s weird, but okay.

Then off to Marshall’s, to actually SHOP IN A STORE.  There were lots of lovely things to look at and lots of happy people looking at the lovely things, but I was cut off twice driving to the store, plus almost hit by a car while walking in the parking lot.  Thank goodness I was paying attention and jumped out of the way.

Banjo Man now owns two new sweaters.  I have a new frying pan, exactly the same one I bought for the lake.

Then it was time to go to a Chinese restaurant to order take out.  And next door was a seafood store, so I brought home chowder, too.  Nancy came over and we had a belated birthday party for Banjo Man, complete with cupcakes.  He is now the proud owner of a 200,000 lumen flashlight and four LED headlamps.

Oh, the joy!

I am attempting to unpack and settle in, but I don’t feel the least bit grounded.  Such a strange feeling, and an unusual one.  I can’t imagine grocery shopping or menu-planning or cooking.  Even loading the dishwasher seems to be too much work.

I really do have to get a grip.  My bins of velvet pumpkins are waiting to be unpacked and my pumpkin lights need to be displayed above the hearth.  Fall is here and I need to get going!

October, 2017.