Glorious Solitude

After a busy weekend of entertaining, I had the now-rare opportunity to watch the final episodes of the "Sex and the City" series on DVD in my underwear last night. Amity and I started the project to watch all of the episodes in order during our summer visits. Blockbuster's incomplete selection notwithstanding, we got to most of them, except the first half of season one and one chunk in the middle of season four. All the guests left in the evening, and the boys went out for an overnight fishing trip for tuna and sharks.

A big part of why I left Chicago was to be closer to family and old friends, and the whole summer has been full and rich with everyone around. But I also know to cherish the few little moments: a cool breeze coming in the bedroom window, a warm sunny non-humid morning for a change, Rococo sacked out on the pillow next to me. At 10 am, Mike came barrelling in to wake me up, right as the phone rang with my mother calling to wake me up.

Now, the boys are just finishing cleaning up from the night, and the mahi mahi has been filleted for dinner. We're going to have a quiet Sunday, the brother and me. Construction starts on the first Crafted Spaces job this week. Patsy arrives from Chicago on Thursday, and I'm on break from CTU next week. My parents announced yesterday that they are waiting to tear down this house, so perhaps I won't be moving until Spring. But from the gleam in my mother's and brother's eyes, they might still try to go ahead this fall. Either way, it's going to be our family's project to build the new house, and the investment of all of our time and talents will make our homestead a place to continue to enjoy for generations of Beagan family and friends.

So yeah, when the quiet moments arrive, I'll take them. But I wouldn't trade the chaos for the quiet like I used to do.