Intermission

"All things must pass

None of life's strings can last

So I must be on my way

And face another day"

-George Harrison

Always sort of a sad moment, when it's time to leave Wyldswood and we're draining the hot tub.

These last few days have been packed.

We left NYC right after class on Thursday, brisk and rainy followed by brisk and snowy through rural New Jersey, then finally sunshine as we approached DC. The evening ended just before ten in Emporia, Virginia, where we gave up and spent the night. We arrived just before closing time at the town's Mexican restaurant for a bag of takeout, nervous looking Hispanic gentlemen scurrying around running their cleanup checklist and probably wondering if we were ICE.

The next morning we battled Montezuma's Revenge from our supper feast, but managed to make it to the farm despite all that by seven. Dean and Slane made nary a peep the entire trip, which was nothing short of remarkable.

Over the course of the weekend, we renewed our Elks membership and checked out the new facility, brought a little more up-to-date since the two hurricanes. We played golf and drank and cooked ribs on the smoker. It was a wonderful pause after a really grueling few weeks of work and school. I sank into exhaustion when I gave myself a chance to take this break.

This morning we leave for PC, always sort of a lugubrious moment for both of us. I look forward to seeing friends, getting a little face time with clients and at Kiwanis. The view from 407 is tough to beat. But this morning feels sad, all the more so with the news that an old friend of ours passed away on Saturday. I picked up the phone and was surprised to be hearing from her not a week ago. She had a legal question, of course, but the conversation soon drifted into her remembrances of the boys, all of whom had seen her as sort of a gracious Southern aunt.

You never know, do you?

Time for breakfast.