Okay, this morning I am not getting ready to go someplace or recovering from having been some place or slouching with an ebook on my tummy. So, I guess I am back. I do not know if I am ready to be back. But here I seem to be.

I haven’t been up to see it, but Der Bingle tells me a tree was uprooted just up the street during a spell of high wind yesterday afternoon. I don’t know if we had a microburst or strong straight-line winds, but the tree is down. It was confusing: the tornado siren went off when it looked clear, and all we could see on weather.com was a line of storms in Goshen; later wind passed through very fast, followed by pouring rain.

I have trouble keeping in mind that it is Monday, the 30th. Der Bingle came on Thursday night instead of Friday which first made me think Friday was Saturday, and that would be in line for today to feel like Tuesday. Only it feels like Sunday. Maybe because Friday, Saturday and Sunday were sort of one continuous Saturday cookout for the carnivores here.

Then I missed the Indianapolis 500 because when I was little, I believe the rule was the race was not held on Sunday, period. If Memorial Day fell on Sunday, it was on the 31st. So today in the 30th, but there is no race so it must be Sunday. I guess I breathed in too much grill smoke.

It is dawning on me that perhaps I am not “back” as I indicated in the title. I am hovering somewhere around it . . . I think . . . maybe.