Guilt Free and Well Fed

I'm over the guilt of not going to the field. My husband is glad that I’m home to dress his wounds and I’m glad that I can be here for him. Last night I was able to go to a birthday party (I have very few girlfriends, so it was a true treat) at a Greek restaurant with the best feta I’ve ever had; it was the consistency of loose cottage cheese and super salty. I gorged myself. There were belly dancers, folk dancers, and I left a little hoarse from hours of yelling “Opah” at every opportunity. I'm glad I'm home.