All Good Things Must Come to an End

I don't want to go home. But I must...

I have done nothing of value since I arrived at my son's farm except for feeding the animals. I fed myself. I slept. I read (and read and read some more). I watched programs I had downloaded off of Netflix. I talked to the cats. Lots. I have tried to make my presence here invisible before I pack up and head home.

I will go talk to the animals some more before I go. I will feed them one more time. Then I must go home. Back to life in the city. I have another week to put in before I can do this "weekend thing" all over again.

How in the world can I do so little and feel so okay about it?

I have declared this weekend a vacation. A vacation away from home and from all responsibilities I have there. Our cats have fended for themselves and now I must go home and clean cat litter. More cat litter. And more cat litter (I put out three extra kitty litter boxes during my absence).

We will need some groceries. The house will need to be vacuumed. There is little more to do other than prepare myself for the week ahead of me.

I have had nothing of value to write during my stay here. I have simply been in awe of all I love about this place my son calls home. I did write a short poem:

We have a fly,

I shall call him Fred.

I can't find a fly swatter

so I'll name him instead.

That is all. It has been a most excellent vacation away from home. I'm so glad I came.