These were taken a few weeks ago down Redart. I try to make it down there three or four times a year just to check on these boats and the docks to which they're moored.
They were all doing just fine.
Just fine is not exactly how I'd describe my temperament last evening, though.
My workdays begin early and are exacerbated by a 100-mile round-trip commute in a car with 182,000 miles on it. I get up at 5:30, leave the house by 6:15 and sit behind the wheel of a car I hope can last for a solid hour of driving before arriving at work at 7:30, where I sit at a desk in a tiny office staring at an even tinier computer screen.
Then I return behind the wheel of a car I hope can last just one more hour to get home.
When sporting events are added to that, the days, the miles, the sitting, the hoping, the worrying, the wondering, the not only is my son leaving for college but how will I pay for it moments, and the hours far from home where things need tending to are even longer.
Way, way, way longer.
So let's just say Monday was a very long day due to work and my daughter's soccer game. By the time Tuesday morning rolled around, it felt as if
Except it wasn't.
No matter what day I felt it should be, it was still only Tuesday morning, way too early.
The very long story short is Tuesday night when I arrived home from yet another brutally long day, wondering when my car is finally going to conk out from all the miles, to see the very same grass I had cut three days ago high enough for more cutting, and the very same ants I'd tamed on the kitchen counter swarming again, and the very same dirt and dust I'd swept the day before piled even higher on the floor, and the dog and cats begging for attention, and Son (who is leaving the nest soon and whose college tuition I have to figure out how to pay for) and Daughter (who will be leaving in a couple of years herself for another college I have to figure out how to pay for) simultaneously needing dinner....well.
I walked into the house and unbeknownst to me, the emotional whirlwind of exhaustion + fear + how am I ever going to do all this by myself created a spontaneous eruption of tears that couldn't be stopped no matter how hard I tried.
Later, when I explained to Son and Daughter that too many things were converging at once and that I was absolutely fine, just a little overwhelmed, Daughter hugged me and said, "We deserve to be a little crazy sometimes."
Crazy wasn't exactly what I was going for, but I so appreciate the empathy. And based on how hard we run during the school year, she's right. We do deserve it.
Whatever it is.
Son went out and cut the very grass I was worried about after helping me season the lackluster spaghetti sauce I was attempting to toss on the table as a token dinner, in between sniffles.
After all that, everything is back to status
But for now, all is good.
Tomorrow's another day.