The haven of the mundane

I'd just been emailing a dear mentor about his newly discovered cancer and treatments, and I was fretting. Then I read a link Kelly sent me about some disturbing crimes by high school girls in my hometown at the nursing home where I used to visit a close friend. (I'm not going to link it, but it makes "Mean Girls" and "Heathers" look like candidates for a humanitarian award.) Then I picked up a message on my cell phone from my father, "You'd better call home, then."

I crawled into bed with all my clothes on, covered with quilts and cats, and hit "CALL." My mother picked up.

"You're calling because of Dad's message. He got me a new computer, and we're wondering if you can help us with some of it."

Whew. Somedays the mundane is a haven.

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