We have about 16 hours left at home-home before we become a long-distance family for another three weeks.
So I should be doing one of the following:
3. cleaning out the fridge
5. loading the car
6. taking out the garbage
7. washing dishes
I should decidedly not be doing any of these:
1. finishing my book
2. learning how to use my new smart phone (*gasp!* I thought the day would never come)
3. Eating three orange Club bars (because they are just so damn delicious. YOU try to stop yourself)
4. dozing in my bed with Sylvia
… which is a comprehensive list of everything I have done since Sylvia went to sleep.
She’ll be up soon, and we’ll have to walk to the post office to have our mail forwarded. Again. I’m really hoping my necklace from Band Back Together‘s charity auction arrived, or else I’ll be waiting another month until I land in Alberta.
I’ll probably tow Sylvia in the wagon, and we’ll make a pit stop at the wharf to see the lobster in their tanks. (We’ll be packing up a cooler full tomorrow morning for Travis to bring to Alberta with him). On the way home, we’ll probably run down the bank to our beach for a few last stone throws and sea glass discoveries. Then Sylvia will cry when I try to put the wagon in the woodshed. Because “You can play with it again in September” is a little too abstract an idea for her to understand right now, I’ll probably end up bringing the wagon in the house while I scramble with laundry, packing, washing and tidying in our last evening home.
I always have visions of the last hew hours at home – a final cup of tea, happily putting away toys with Sylvia – but it never happens. I should know better by now!