Holding Pattern

All things seem to be in a state of status quo these days.  The rain that has been promised for weeks fails to appear; sure not complaining about our mild fall temperatures here in northern California, but we could definitely do with fewer promises and more real rain (like the weather people are in charge).  My SoCal Kid remains in hospital, awaiting more definitive tests.  Being The Evil Mom I am, I tease him via text with mouth-watering menus as he breakfasts on cardboard pancakes and dines on grey pot roast.  I continue to contend with this week-long cold; at least my voice has returned, albeit a growly one.  Pearl maintains her self-appointed job as Watch Cat On Duty, making hourly patrols through the house beginning at midnight and announcing, "Two o'clock and all's well," and Bessie Anne still ignores her and snores away.  I've started making my annual lists in preparation for Thanksgiving, but, as usual, that's as far as I've gotten.  Since the menu hasn't changed an iota in probably fifty years, a list seems superfluous, but there is a certain satisfaction in crossing "Make Lists" off the To-Do List.  There are worse places to be than in a holding pattern; there's always the anticipation that good things are coming.  I'll settle for that.