There is a canadian goose and a mallard duck staring at me right now.

Either they really envy my rockin' St. Patty's Day hoodie or they want my Blue Moon.

Take the sweatshirt my feathered friends. But please leave the beer. 

It's miraculous the difference a week makes. Last week at this time I was scrubbing my hands obsessively in the ICU to prevent spreading even a mini mini germ to my dad. Today I'm enjoying the Wisconsin sunshine on my patio-- and of course, in honor of St. Patrick, a beer.

Although I'm not really sure how he went from chasing the snakes out of Ireland to becoming the patron saint of alcoholic beverages.

Dad is doing better. He'll be moved from his current hospital digs to the ones in my hometown on Thursday, just in time to coincide with my planned trip to Minnesota. I'm super pumped to see him without all the scary IVs. 

Seth is away for the week, spending some much needed time with his mom and brother. While I miss him (particularly his mad dusting skills-- our living room is so dusty!), I'm discovering that time away can be just as rejuvenating for us as a couple. Particularly when things get so stressful.

Plus, it leaves me a bounty of alone time to wedding plan.

Well I best be going-- another duck has joined my company and my Blue Moon is running out. Either time to retreat from my own wildlife center-- or go get more beer.

Happy St. Patty's Day!

Mini blog vacation

Dad's in the ICU in Minneapolis (where I am right now-- yucky snowstorm). Your prayers please.

I'm getting married.

Sometimes with everything going on I manage to forget that little factoid. 

By now, most readers of my blog know that my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer last month. 

I don't have to look very far into my daily life to find my dad. He's in my joy for cleaning bathrooms. My need to keep track of my to dos on post-it notes. The way I brush off my car when it snows. My always on time mentality. My addiction to Sudoku. And the reason I am at mass every Sunday. He was even my personal cheerleader yesterday when I did my own taxes for the first time. 

So it doesn't take much to figure out that if ever there was a Job moment, a "desert" in this Lenten season, this would be it.

Cancer sucks.