the first thing i did sunday morning, bleary headed, after driving the jordans to their early morning flight out of burlington was strip the bed, throw the washing in, and remake it with fresh linens. i thought i'd be so glad to be back in my own bed. i collected dish towels, beach towels, and wash cloths and threw them in line for washing. i purged the fridge of the week's collections, giving the chickens a massive bowl of leftovers. i scrubbed the sweet potato mash off the side of the small, much abused oven. i swept. i vacuumed. i put every pillow back in its rightful place. i had nick take the appalling number of beer and wine bottles down to the mouth of the barn. i took the baby un-friendly vases and typewriters down from safekeeping. i quietly and efficiently almost excitedly reverted the house back to Just So.
i breathed deeply and tried to relish the quietude of this little house that just hours before carried 6 adults 2 babies and 2 dogs. melissa had said we would surely be glad to have the quiet back. and during breakfast as arlo was banging on the big pot with a heavy wooden spoon nick had brought back from tanzania, i thought she was right. i thought i did miss the quiet.
but now that melissa and brent and everly and arlo are back in raleigh, and meg and vini and their puppy beans are back in boston i find i don't like the quiet. i want the mess of 8 humans living in 2 rooms back. i want the chaos of dinners and the endless sink of dishes. i want the pillows and the all the blankets back in the corner of our bedroom where they had made an impromptu bed for everly. i want to tiptoe into the bedroom to check email while one of the jordan's sleeping babes naps. i want to hear brent walking up from the milking barn playing the mandolin. i want to try a new beer that vini has collected. i want everly to help me pick this morning's peas off the vines. i want her to shake her finger at me and say no ma'am in the most crushing southern baby drawl. i want to see nick hold our beautiful godson. i want to have meg and melissa right there in the sun of the living room to chat and snack and drink lemonade as though we all still live in san francisco.
i certainly don't want the quiet and so i miss the loud.
the house, the farm, the whole mountain all feel too quiet now.
it is heartbreak to live so far away from such good good friends. it kills me to see everly and arlo grow up so quickly, only being able to hold them and kiss them once a year.
but our roots are set in new england, and theirs in north carolina. and so we must forever shuttle to and fro to see one another.
melissa took many more photographs than i this last week. so you can read and see more about their visit here.