Ben and I were out early. He woke me up slowly, sliding his big heavy ring onto my finger, pulling me in close against him under the quilts. I am still punchy, drugged and slow, yesterday was tough for me out of the blue and Ben didn't let go of me once, to the point where Lochlan had to politely request that he lay off for five minutes so he could get a hug. They had a laugh but it's beautifully obvious now that Ben isn't disappearing to work on projects or be introverted like he always was Before. Maybe he'll go back to that someday but for now he is present, barely out of reach.
He went to a meeting while I stayed to read in the truck (The Outsiders! It's the only book on my phone at present) and then we stopped at Overpriced, Horrible But Highly Convenient Grocery Store for a smallish load of groceries, as we ran out of eggs and cookies and shampoo seemingly all at once. We stopped for gas on the way home, in consideration of the coming storm today and now we're home again. All the things we bought are put away and he is putting away dishes now, while I have started the laundry already. I can hear the windchimes every time I venture near a window. The trees are beginning to bend. It's supposed to be a good one. High, damaging winds. This on the heels of last week's King Tides.
Kind of fun, if you ask me but then again I am home, safe and sound and so is everyone else who lives here. My favourite sort of comfort, truth be told. Put on some lights, pour another cup of coffee, set the music volume on low and be together.
We have a huge wooden sign on the tree as you drive out of the property. It's on the big cherry tree just above the stables and it says COME HOME SAFE in big green letters on an elm background. That's all that matters these days.
On the back of that sign, as you're coming in to the driveway, it says OH GOOD. YOU'RE BACK. I painted that part one day in secret and as the boys came home over the next few days and saw it they absolutely love it, though it became a big of a joke when Duncan would walk in the door and PJ would put his coffee cup down rather dramatically and tell him,
Oh good....you're back, in the most ominous voice.
After much pleading he let the joke rest, because it's meant to be exclaimed in relief. Not surprise. Later on another sign was added just below the first, on the side you see as you drive in. Another piece of elm, sturdy and warm. It says simply WE MISSED YOU.
I don't know who made it. No one will tell me but I love it even more than the original.