It's not that I don't like visiting my husband's biological father and his wife in Indiana. The guest bed has two mattresses, the top one filled thickly with down and covered with a heavy, handmade quilt guaranteed to get even the most stubborn insomniac to sleep. There's a big yard, a huge park across the street, and the nearby gas station has surprisingly good pizza. A visit to their house means choosing whether to sit in a lawn chair in the shady front yard or on a cushioned bench on the upstairs sunporch. Visitors are welcome to relax and unwind, no pressure to do anything but just be. So why, then, am I here at home alone while my husband and kids made the drive down to Indiana this morning? The truth is, I like spending time alone. Always have. I go to movies alone, I go to restaurants alone (as long as I have a book or magazine to read), and occasionally, I like to hang out at home alone. And my husband knows that. After 24 years together, he's become an expert at knowing … [Read more...]