I'm surprised there wasn't a traffic jam on our little dirt road yesterday. At times, my driveway looked like a parking lot. My son Larry and his lady, Susan, arrived shortly after I'd come up from the barn, followed soon by my daughter, Deb, and her husband Craig. Knowing that the Kids won't be coming up during the heat of summer, I was really looking forward to this day together. Then Tree Guy and two sons showed up to take the splitter down to the goat pen to make little logs out of big ones. Shortly thereafter, a gentleman who'd showed interest came to take a look at my old tractor, a Ford N-8 or 9. He knows of a couple of potential buyers, so I wasn't about to turn off his stream of conversation. Isolated as we are, we hill people do love a new audience. (Everyone we know has already heard all of our stories.)
Back in the house at last, the Kids and I had a really relaxing day. Some played games, some napped, and Craig and I puttered around in the kitchen. I enlisted his help to make a batch of feta cheese while I chopped vegetables for dinner, and we had an opportunity to talk. I'd like to remove the "in-law," as Craig is as dear to me as any of my other sons. We had an early farm-house dinner, and the last car left before sundown, calls of "Love you!" back and forth hanging in the air as they drove down the hill. The house never seems so empty and quiet as when the Kids have been here and gone.
It was a good day.