I'm not coordinated or savvy enough to send vacation pictures from the road.  The fact that I own a GPS is nothing short of a miracle (Her name is Lavinia and she speaks with a British accent).  Then there's my paranoia about announcing to the world that my house is empty because I'm out on the road sending pictures of my vacation.  City Kid don't do that.  But now I can tell you there was a road trip worthy of Dorothy Lamour and Bob Hope (dating myself a bit here) and the boys are back at their respective schools.  The silence thunders in my ears.

First stop was Poughkeepsie, New York, where Son Number One figured out that he had given us the wrong day and he couldn't get the key to his room until the following day.  He coped.  Friends are wonderful and sometimes, so are crises.

Off to Manhattan for the remaining three of us and a trip to the Metropolitan Museum after strolling the streets of the Upper West Side for Hours and declaring gelatto supper.  There was a drive to Gettysburg so Himself could finally see the battlefield first hand.  On to Columbus,Ohio and an overnight stop at the rectory of the dear friend who married us, then on to Cleveland.
I've never been to Cleveland before and I needed to see Son Number Two's school.  Not bad.  Not bad at all, although the Rock and Roll hall of Fame was a bit of a letdown.  Two days there and a tearful farewell were followed by a drive to Elmira, New York, where Mark Twain wrote "Huckleberry Finn" and "Tom Sawyer" in what is basically a gazebo with a fireplace which was built for him by his sister-in-law as a study.  The trip to Twains' grave site was moving for me.  More on that later.
Seneca Falls was next, and although the work the women did to level the playing field was inspirational and impressive, the town was a bit "meh" as my son would say.  Another stop in Poughkeepsie with friends on the way home (and Son Number One and his Lady) and here we are.

It's been a long time since we've had a "vacation" and heaven knows I needed a break, but I'm still glad to be home and sleeping in my own bed.  Dorothy had it right; "There's no place like home," but I think returning to Kansas after Oz must have been tough.  I wonder if it was as quiet there as it is here.

It's been a week of milestones.  There have been birthdays, "last Tuesday with head on own pillow until Thanksgiving", first anniversary of a friend's death.  Summer is doing what summer does, slipping away like a ninja, and it's time to take the boys back to college.  The house will be less fun.  I'll get more sleep, and it might even be cleaner (not by much), but it's a poor trade for the energy they bring.  There aren't that many more summers when they'll want to come home.  Before I know it, the tuition traumas will be over and they'll be off living their own lives.  But before we get that far there is a road trip and some fun along the way.

This learning to let go is interesting.  I never thought I'd be able to manage it, but it grows out of the love I feel for them, out of my wanting what's best for them in the long run.  One by one my kitty claws are retracting and I'm accepting their choices, their absences, their (horrible) hours.  And it's not even a huge sacrifice on my part.  It just feels like "the next thing".  There is a selfish component in all this as well.  I'm still growing and learning and wanting to try new things.  Now I'll have some time to figure out which new things.

I've never seen Son Number Two's college, so that's going to be interesting.  The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame does not thrill me, but Himself is agog at the thought, so that's fine with me.  At this point I'm along for the ride and keeping my eyes and my heart wide open, memorizing every vanishing moment without being maudlin about it.  As you know, my motto is "Life is short, and so am I."  So pay attention.

Today my BFF since the age of 11 (which is more than twenty years, I will admit) and I celebrated our mutual birthdays together, as we do every year.  This year, however, she found this incredible little tea room in Walpole, Massachusetts called "Fancy That".  It's all bone china, tea cozies, delightful finger sandwiches and pastries, lovely Victorian this and that, and the nicest host and hostess I've come across in a long time.  There is even a picture of Queen Elizabeth II in the gift shop(pe).  I am in love with this place.

The  selection of teas was impressive, the food delicious, and the attention to detail mind-boggling.  Ladies, there are roses on the TP in the loo!  In this delightful, unhurried atmosphere, my friend and I caught up on our chaotic lives and didn't worry about anything or anyone for close to two hours.  I took away (well, I paid first....) a loaf of lemon poppy bread, a package of gorgeous paper napkins that can double as doilies for the center of the table, and a book of recipes for Welsh tea cakes.

A group of four young friends were in another room of the shop, all dressed up in outrageous shoes and hats and tea things.  They were college friends and adorable.  It was a first for them, too, and we all took snaps of one another.

Sometimes it's the little things that make a day; the diversion from the hum drum, the celebration of charm and elegance and grace.  Generation gap, my eye!  They were as into this whole scene as BFF and I.  So here's to civility and lace and doilies, to hats and bone china, calories and old friends, however long you've been old friends.  For some of us it just happens to be a bit longer than for others.

I woke at 5:30 without benefit of the alarm clock, which surprised me, considering I was at the subway at midnight picking up Son Number One after his shift ended.  The room was darker than I had expected it to be.  August is like that.  Daylight leaks out of the day like tea from a cracked mug.  The windows were open because the temperatures were cool overnight and it's always nice to get fresh air in the room and not depend on the fans or air conditioners to pull it in.  And then it hit me.  All I could hear was the hum of distant traffic.  Where are my birds?  They did it to me again!  They packed their birdie bags and slipped away when I wasn't paying attention.

It wouldn't have been a tearful goodbye.  I knew it was coming.  There are still a few sparrows and the odd robin who winters over.  Not all the birds are gone.  Why do I always feel guilty that I haven't paid close enough attention to their song?  In addition to the fact that daily exercise is a promise I make and break with depressing regularity, I find myself wishing I'd gotten up early every morning and gone for a walk just for the pleasure of the symphony we have access to for such a short time each year.  There are still heat waves ahead of us, I suspect.  It's only early August, after all.  But that beautiful background music is gone for another year and I'm missing it.  This is another reminder, as if I needed one, that the boys will be going back to school in less than two weeks and the house will be neater (some) and quieter (too much).  My heart aches just a little.

Before long the windows will be closed overnight and the traffic hum will be less noticeable, then there will be autumn winds, followed by snow, and before you know it, robin song again, because life goes by about that fast.  Next time I'll pay closer attention.  And maybe I'll stare at leaves and snowflakes a little closer this year, too.  But I'm already longing for spring.

Yesterday was my birthday and yes, I do remember when parties looked like that, but that wasn't mine.  It was a quiet day and started overcast, ending with sunshine, which was appropriate because that was more or less how I was feeling.  Himself went out running in the morning and had a headache for most of the rest of the day, Son Number One spent the day on the couch in his jammies, playing video games and watching Netflix, and Son Number Two was off to Comic Con with his peeps to partake in what I gather is sort of a holy nerd convention, but fun. I was fine with all that anyway.  I was busy pouting.
This was the first birthday I was missing my Mom and several friends.  There were cards in the mail, but some really significant ones were REALLY conspicuous by their absence and it hurt like hell.  For some stupid reason I had forgotten to brace myself for that.  Wouldn't you think I'd know how to do this by now?
As the day progressed I went out to lunch with a lovely friend whom I don't see very often and she surprised me by grabbing the check (we had promised to split it, since her birthday is not far off).  I sat on the front porch reading "The Mabinogion Trilogy" when I got home, the ancient folk tales of Wales.  Sounds boring, but some of that stuff gets pretty heated!  And weird!
Himself bought me gorgeous red roses and was going to make a wonderful dinner, but his headache was pounding so we ordered pizza instead, then I bought myself a bottle of sherry and we watched re-runs of "The West Wing" which are all new to me.  I have a dinner date from one son, and a very cool "Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty" tee shirt for those of you who know "The Big Bang Theory" from the other. And I remembered how blessed I am.
Facebook messages are too easy to be meaningful, but still over 110 people took the time to press a button and spare me a thought, which I appreciated.  And many of those people are actually friends in the true sense, and how much luckier can a girl - or an old lady - be?
So here's to the next year of overcoming obstacles and reminding myself that I am lucky, lucky, lucky and being open to the next great adventure, whatever God has lined up for me.  May I have the sense to recognize it for what it is: a gift.