Home Alone

Today Pigga the fluffy cat was lying on the porch, sleeping in a patch of sun with a big happy smile on her face.

I thought, That's like me with all the children in school.

Paul is back in the classroom full-time this year, so he doesn't come marching in and out of the house all day, shouting on his cell phone. Matt works at the warehouse from 8-1 and at his engineering job from 2:30 to about 7. Amy is teaching this year, full-time until college starts and then half-time.

Emily, Ben, Steven, and Jenny are in school, under the tutelage and guidance of their dad and sister and another teacher, the sweet young Mrs. Baker. So they are not rattling around the house at all hours, throwing pillows in the air or arguing loudly about whether or not Emily was winking with both eyes at the same time.

And I? I am home alone. It is wonderful. I have time to think. Today I closed my eyes for a while and listened to the clock ticking. I'd almost forgotten that clocks tick. I love being home alone.

I don't normally go this ga-ga over school starting. In fact, normally I dread it and cry and all that. But ever since Lenny died I have had this desperate desire to have some quiet time alone. These two months, the noise and action of the family have grated on me far more than normal.

And now I feel like I have been handed a gift--hours a day to be alone and quiet. One of these times I'll be ready to have Anita over for tea or the Harrisburg Hens for Prayer&Share. But for now I'm happy to putter, ponder, and pray all alone. Oh--I also can 20 quarts of tomato juice and work on a speech for next week. But it's all good.

Quote of the Day:
"Oh, Emily, if you look at that cross-eyed it looks like two eyes with no mouth!"
--Jenny, about Emily's mole