I suppose it’s only fitting that the local radio station, to which I’m listening in my living room, is playing every sad song ever recorded in the 70s. It’s probably also fitting that rain is pouring down outside my window to a backdrop of pitch black, and that a certain amount of wind accompanies it all.
Our Christmas tree, stripped of its decorations, has been hauled unceremoniously out of the living room. It now lies outside on the curb where it’s been tossed like yesterday’s news, waiting for pick-up from the Boy Scouts, who aren’t even coming until January 5. Only half of our house lights are still plugged in and shining.
With a couple of beeps on the horn of the diesel flatbed as he drove down the hill, George was on his way back to Westport by 7:30 this morning. He and the crew were scheduled to meet back at the boat this afternoon for the official start of the crab season.
George started his round of farewells to our household this morning with special words of goodbye for the dogs. Eva knew something was odd before he got to her; by the time he did, she was nervously cuddling with me in the glider rocker, clutching one of her new Christmas books. I asked him to make it quick; if he didn’t, I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to hold it together, and of course I had to for Eva’s sake and Vincent’s.
So, with a round of “Now get outta here, you!” words sung in forced-cheerful tones and hugs that, although brief, conveyed all the love and heartache in the world, George was off.
I’m glad I was scheduled to teach Jazzercise first thing this morning; it gave me a reason to hurry, get ready, and get my kids and me out the door. And of course, physical exercise and seeing friends is always an excellent antidote for most of whatever ails you.
After Jazzercise, I got busy with another excellent antidote for whatever ails you; housecleaning. I now have two sparkling bathrooms, laundry halfway done, Christmas decorations lined up to go back downstairs, and a dishwasher that’s been emptied and reloaded.
I guess that’s about it. It’s just an update for everyone and to let those like C.S. know—I’m officially here with you again, and you’re right—it is harder this time.