Absent Friends

Far too much time gets spent "away".

 I load up the truck this morning, and drive towards Ann direct from work at mid-day, and SO glad to be doing so, but, as Ann herself mused recently, this just moves us away from somewhere else, too. We get comfortable with where we are. There's no helping it.

We project ourselves with our minds, and fling our bodies after.

If we hold still, there's no certainty that the world will come looking for us. Less and less so, as time goes by, it seems.

Absent friends.

"Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance; everybody thinks it's true..." - Paul Simon

For Ann and me, we know we will keep striving to be together, but, oh my, we need to stop living under separate roofs. (Rooves?  ...Hoof. Hooves? ...whatever!)

I'll be taking Ann some more outside planting boxes, the tomato planter, a hammock, and her watering can.

Kelly will hold the fort here, ride herd on the cats, no doubt teaching them all sorts of useful tricks, like eating and sleeping and watching episodes of CSI and House. She was out enjoying her friends, and tip-toed in not too long ago at 4am. She sleeps the deep sleep of one who has partied well and long, as I write.

I miss our younger daughter, Margie. Word is that she is imagining living off-campus, out there in Phoenix; another big step towards adulthood. She'll need a bicycle, or roller-blades, or at the very least a bus-pass to get to and from. In summer she'll need a really good anti-perspirant. She will be home the weekend of her birthday, and off on a "date" with one of her oldest friends, Britomar, escorting each other to Brit's prom. I was kind of hoping they'd both rent tuxedos, just to make a wild stir at the event, but they both love gowns.

:-)