In his post last week, Dad talked about all the things that had been going on for Mom and him over the past while. Summer can get so crazy. Full of good things, but so, so busy.

This week for me is a quiet oasis. The children are away, doing summer things. This week, it’s just My Man and Me. Kinda strange, and I miss the boys. But it’s lovely, too. We’re enjoying spending time together, just the two of us. It’s a little practice, I guess, for the empty nest.

A honeymoon, said a friend. But we’re old now, you know, and romance looks a little different. When Lyndon left for work this morning he kissed me goodbye and then said, why don’t you take a nap this afternoon and maybe we’ll go out and do something this evening. The sad thing is, he’s right. Without a nap, I’d never make it past 10:00. Old.

Early this morning, as Lyndon and I walked out to the barn to feed the chickens and milk the goats, he commented on what a beautiful summer it has been so far. And it has. We haven’t made any big trips or had any grand adventures. It’s been pretty quiet, really. But very sweet.

Quiet, when I let myself settle into it without longing for something bigger, can indeed be a very, very sweet thing. This week, I am treasuring it. I’ll enjoy my afternoon nap, and he’ll probably snooze for a few minutes when he gets home, and we’ll drive to Assiniboia or Moose Jaw for a movie and the visiting in the vehicle will be the best part. And the quiet summer will sweeten and sweeten, and I’ll enjoy every tasty drop.

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