Empty Nest

Mission accomplished. Peace descends.

The French Invasion is over. We returned from the grand tour last night to find happy dogs, a clean house, and a lovely casserole ready to be heated up.

The mama of the five baby squirrels is coming down from her nest. She seems to be on her own now, and is probably feeling the same sense of quiet satisfaction and peace that I feel this morning. It was a good visit, a good party, a happy cousins’ reunion, and we have the rest of the summer still ahead of us. We also have a whole lot more squirrels.

In an excess of optimism, I brought my stationery and stamps to write thank you notes along on the trip. That did not happen. But I did organize and direct a pie-making competition (judged by Grandpa), cuddle the granddaughters, read story books aloud, arrange a birthday celebration for our thirteen-year-old grandson, play charades, have a lovely, long talk with my daughter and daughter-in-law, drink champagne in another anniversary celebration, and help assemble a 1,000 piece puzzle. After we drove in from Maryland (with a stop to buy one more suitcase), returned the rental car, repacked one of the suitcases in the parking lot, and hauled the six enormous suitcases to the pickup stand, we sent the Frenchies off in their piled-to-the-ceiling Uber to Dulles, and sat down at DCA to have a cold beer.

I have taken pains to schedule nothing this week, but the carpet cleaning guy will be coming by today to pick up his industrial fans that have been running non-stop in the basement. There are suitcases to unpack, the wrong replacement coffee pot to be returned, and laundry to do. At some point the furniture in our family room will have to be moved back onto the clean carpet, but not today. Today I will take the luxury of going nowhere and doing nothing except writing and practicing piano. And maybe see if there are any dahlias at the farmers’ market.

Bliss.

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Be of good cheer.

JFR

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And now for your gratuitous dog photos:

Auggie’s non-stop activity sometimes masks his affectionate nature, but you can see it in his eyes. You can also see that the smallest movement will trigger the next launch.

Eli rubs himself against us and waves his tail like a cat to show he loves us. He also sits on us when given the opportunity, and, of course, drops shoes and old socks on our faces as love tokens.