Stuff

Found an old photo archive...

M's annual departure for summer with her dad was almost uneventful this year. "It's only a month--28 days. That'll fly," she said in the car, setting the tone, probably intentionally; she watched me carefully, looking for shadows. I don't want her upset. A long hug at the goodbye, and then off they went. L and I climbed back into the car after she'd left. "It was easy this time," he said. They're growing up. These are the moments when I see it.

The air is getting thick with summer here; you can see the moisture, and the sky is that heavy gray/blue. And it's not even in the 90s yet! I've won out again over the little ants that find their way into the kitchen every year when the weather changes; they never made it to the cabinets this time--I've learned how to beat them back. I've pulled the weeds from the garden by the door, and planted a few tomato plants. L will pick the ripe ones every morning, and cut some chives, and slice them all into his omelettes. (Must get his cholesterol checked; that boy loves his eggs...) Keeneye hurt his foot in some midnight adventure in the woods, so we kept him close yesterday, and he was like a sick child: lying against me on the floor, begging to have his stomach rubbed. L put baby aspirin in a piece of tuna and watched him swallow it down, and cooed to him for hours, whispering and murmering love. This morning he's better, just like that. And for a month things will feel odd, suspended, until M gets home. Not an adventure-packed existence. Even the missing is a little comforting.

A person I fired six months ago is a little crazy, it turns out; he's done a few unsettling things--to me, to a co-worker--and he turned up the volume last week. We've involved the police. I was alone in the house last night and my imagination got the best of me; couldn't sleep, listening for something. I thought, unaccountably, of an old woman I used to know when I was younger. She told me that we have the power in ourselves to deflect harm--with our thoughts. Whatever else, I know there is no upside to inviting in fear. It's odd that I feel safer when the children are home.