Call off the dogs, bring in the search and rescue. I'm home. And, despite rumors to the contrary, I am not decomposing in the kitchen, the cat hasn't made a snack out of my face, the ferrets haven't turned my toes into trophies.

I am not dead.

Adam, his parents and I spent the past five days in New York. So maybe I wasn't dead, but I took a five day tour of Sarah Heaven, even if I didn't get to meet Matt or Malorie.

I'm a zillion forms of exhausted, so instead of posting gibberish, I'll just leave you with this exhibit from the Museum of Modern Art:



We have two of them in our garage right now. That's class.