The weary travelers return

Well, we're back. We return from a place that was 85 degrees and sunny all week, to a place that's 47 degrees and rainy. The windows are shut tight, the trees outside are half-bare, I ripped up all my tomato plants and most of the herbs (dead), and I'm trying to resist turning the heat on. It's a little disconcerting to have a peeling sunburn when it's 47 degrees and rainy.

New Orleans was awesome, as always. I got to spend some quality time with my sister and her family. My new nephew is cute as a bug (he only pooped on me once). We saw Kermit Ruffins live at Vaughan's, ate turtle soup and bread pudding souffle at Commander's Palace, ate hot sausage and cheese po' boys at Gene's, and caught some live jazz at Three Muses. I drank my weight in Abita beer, and DH managed to have at least a little fun. Seeing Kermit was the highlight of the trip. I want to spend every night dancing in smoky bars to live jazz/soul.

I'd loooooovvve to move down there for a couple of months, until DH does find a job, but I fear I'd get down there and then not be able to find a job right away (or find one that's as lucrative as the one I have now). I'm going to start looking for a sublet/month-to-month in Boston; hopefully we can find something cheaper, and we can move there and I can be closer to work. Maybe a change of scenery will shake DH out of his funk a little. In the meantime, I'm thinking about shifting all operations to the downstairs half of the apartment, so that we can heat only one half and keep the upstairs closed off.

It's back to the grey, dreary, normal routine, and I'm not very happy about it.