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I have little time to post today.  I woke up late, in my own bed.  Oh, my.  I went through the old routine--got up and hit the "Go" button on the coffee maker, then went to make my morning ablutions.  I poured a cup of coffee and sat down with the laptop.  

The coffee was horrible.  Stale.  The beans had been sitting in a jar for two months.  They will be given the pitch.  Otherwise, it was lovely returning to my old routine.  But I felt guilty.  Is it selfish to want my life back?  Maybe.  

My cousin is with my mother, though, and she is probably much better at "Gunsmoke" and chatter.  She is stoned all the time and never shuts up.  But she will not fix the fun and nutritious breakfast I made for my mother.  And they will not have the nutritious dinners I always fixed.  Rather, they will eat out at the likes of The Golden Corral and its ilk.  

So I believe.  

Returning home yesterday was a bit strange.  I spent the afternoon putting things away and relearning what needs to be done here.  Any problems I left did not heal themselves.  They are still here.  

I went back to my mother's in the late afternoon to check on her.  My cousin was out shopping, but she came back just as I was ready to leave.  I chatted for a bit then said goodbye to my mother.  She was guilting me when I left.  

I had a text from Tennessee.  

"Where you at?"

Good old hillbilly talk.  I called him.  

"Come over for some wine," he said.  

O.K.  So weird, heading over to his house as the sun began to sink. This was the time for eating with my mother, watching the local then the national news.  I felt a strange mixture of guilt and freedom.  

His outdoor kitchen patio is beautiful.  

"Man. . . I would live out here," I said.  "I'd do yoga and meditation here mornings.  I would never cook inside.  I'd have drinks here in the evening.  This is lovely."

His two dogs were happy to have company.  We opened a bottle of wine and kibitzed for awhile.  Then we made pizzas using flat sheets of naan, some tomato paste, cheeses, pancetta, meats, and spinach with red pepper flakes.  Two pizzas, each a bit different.  These we cooked in his giant kitchen in his eye level Viking oven.  

"I've never had a big kitchen," I said.  "I've always had kitchens like a boat galley.  This is pretty awesome."  

It was nine when I got back to my house.  I sat on the big leather couch and turned on the television.  Sitting in the darkened room, watching whatever I wanted. . . . 

And to bed.  

But this morning, bad coffee is my treat before I go to the dentist's office.  It is time for my gold tooth.  I'll be one badass gangsta when I come home.  

And so. . . I'll go for a cup of coffee when I'm done.  I'm drinking the worst coffee ever in The King's New Kingdom.