Storytorch

My daughter has been convalescing from surgery here in Winterset since late November.

Mary was improved enough this week for her husband Steve to go home to Chicago for a few days. He's returning to college next month at Loyola, has an extended family to check in with, and operates his own start-up business, so there's lots to take care of. Also on Steve's to-do list was reclaiming his and Mary's little dog Stitchy* from his Uncle Stjepan who's been dog-sitting, or at least getting a look at her.

I was nervous about Steve going off the home medical care team for a few days, but (though we miss him) we're doing fine. Here's what happened yesterday that proves my 29-year-old daughter is on the mend:

1. She cares where her purse is.
2. She listened to the messages accumulated on her cell phone over the past few weeks, jotting down notes.
3. She called both her sisters.
4. She moisturized her thighs and elbows (herself).
5. She made sure she was in front of the TV at 9 p.m. to catch the latest episode of Top Chef.

Steve called in (after Top Chef) and reported visiting Stitchy at his uncle's apartment earlier in the day; as we feared, the (extremely short) dog has gained weight. She barked at Steve's shoes when he came in the door, but then looked up, recognized him, and wagged her tail.

Steve plans to move Stitchy back to his and Mary's apartment this afternoon. The transition may be rather involved, though, what with her new wardrobe, her array of squeak toys, and Uncle Steve's emotional needs.

Today's Fortune Cookie Fortune:
You will care where your dog is.

*See Storytorch, December 2, 2008, "Dog(gone) Stitchy."