Jack and I had an easy trip down today, and as we skidded to a stop at the Lake Charles airport, I asked him what he thought the odds were of Mom or Dad picking us up on time. His answer? 5. "Jack, five out of ten?" I queried."Nope, out of 100." "What about our bag having arrived?" "16."

He's not far off, historically speaking. ;) But in fact, Dad was waiting as we exited the gate, our bag came around quickly, Jack was simply elated to be here, and when we walked in to my parents' home, all felt right. My mom and aunts were choosing pictures for the slideshow that will play during tomorrow's visitation, so I took Jack out to get wizard-craft supplies (his newest library book is basically a cookbook of wizardry-related projects, and he was keen to try making Phoenix's ashes and a flying broom) and to the market so we could restock the basics in the kitchen.

While I made granola (everyone looked like they could use some good, healthy food), Jack readied the seemingly hundreds of matches we were to light afire in order to produce smoky, glowing ashes. After four books of spent stubs, I called Dad (a kinda pyromaniac like jack) to take over. They had a small fire going in the garage, and I made a point to just keep cooking. It was definitely a craft fail, yet to Jack it is "The Big Burn" and was awesome.

We started cutting the broomcorn for the flying broom but had to stop because that little boy was out of gas and never returned. Tomorrow.

Lovely neighbors brought us dinner, and now I'm crashed in bed, a single eye open as I come to the end of this post. I am really, really tired.

Mom and her sisters feel that the funeral home did a great job and that Nanny looks beautiful and peaceful.

Until tomorrow...