July 4th is the holiday when everyone comes to our house. At one time, all the sisters-in-law picked their holidays, and since MSB is a barbecuing genius, the holiday that centers around this art belongs to him. Our smallest group was–what? Eight, I think. Our largest hit around forty. This year was an even dozen.

I love having everyone here. In-laws, nieces, nephews, kids, and grandkids: generations of the family coming together under one roof–the same space that had to be cleaned stem to stern before they showed up. This one time during the year, cleaning can’t be helter-skelter like it usually is. The entire house has to be clean all at the same time for that first family to show up and track in dirt from outside. From there on, house appearance doesn’t matter as long as the bathrooms are decent and the kitchen smells like cooking. After my illness hit with such force in 2012, I learned the value of covered-dishing, but I still do a lot of the cooking.

Speaking of my illness: I wonder if the anesthesia from so many surgeries truly has worn off. Saturday, I told my niece that I’d cheated while making my apple crumble. Instead of using fresh apples, I used onion pie filling. That is not a typo, nor is it what I used, but it plopped out of my mouth like it was a truth from God. I can’t remember some of the other word fumbles from over the weekend–there were quite a few–but that one will make the giggle rounds for a while.

Even though I have the best family ever–the kind of family who clean up after the party and insist I sit and rest (God love ’em!)–there was still a lot for us to do yesterday. Leftovers had to be rewrapped for the freezer, items used only for this annual occasion had to be returned to their hidey-holes, card tables folded and put away. But once we got it all done, we got to rest some.

Still, the Monday morning after a big weekend leaves me wishing for one more holiday of rest. Once again, I’ve started my day late, which means I’ve already started in a state of panic. Mondays are always busy and, often, timing is everything. Or so I think. The truth about Monday is that things will get done, or they won’t. The most important stuff will get done, the rest can wait. The rest can always wait. I used to be the type who believed the old addage, “Don’t put off for tomorrow what can be done today,” but as I age, I’ve learned that Scarlett O’Hara had a point: “Tomorrow is another day!”

So, yes, my blog post is two hours late, but it’s done. The fact that it’s up at 7:00 central time rather than 5 makes very little difference to my readers on the west coast. I’m supposed to be finished rolling through my inbox by now, but I barely touched it through the weekend. Those who have waited for my response since Thursday night can stand to wait a few hours more.

It’s the Monday after a holiday filled with family, food, and fun. I’m still working my way through a pot of coffee and wondering if I should freeze the “onion” crumble. My mind will shift over to ad campaigns, clients, and manuscripts as the day goes on. Or not. If it doesn’t, well, there’s always tomorrow. It’s only a day away.