Empty nest

I went to bed early last night, read a class assignment, and then fell asleep. I woke up this morning all tangled up in the sheets. Tim slept soundly on the other side of the bed with the blankets that he'd managed to keep hold of. We were lazy and talked. Dozed off. Talked some more. Finally got up about 7-ish.

Much to our surprise, the robins are gone. Tim talked to them last night, and knows that they were still there. Early this morning, they apparently took off and the little nest sits empty.

No pictures.

Darn it.

Yesterday was a working day. Tim did some replumbing (figures that it is something to get done before we get in there...) and I spent the afternoon tearing up tack strips from the second floor. The house was not quiet. A radio played. We were tracking the weather. Violent storms had gone through the area, and a tree had fallen across the street within sight of the house. So I worked and the radio crackled with further weather alerts.

I heard voices. I thought the sound was coming from outside, where city workers worked to remove the tree and untangle electric lines. I worked on. I caught Tim's voice, and I realized that he was talking to someone. I got myself to my feet, and went down. We had our first company. Mike and Bethany came to look at it. It seemed only right that it should be one of the kids. Bethany said, "Oh. I love the library." By the time we got to the second floor, Mike said, "Wait. I'm lost." On the third floor, I showed them little William's playroom. I commented that the other room would be a playroom too, more set up for future granddaughters (although I realize full well that toys are not gender specific and that there will be playing back and forth between the two rooms...) Mike said, firmly, "There will be no grandbabies from me." The other day, on the phone, Cara said, "I don't know where you're planning to get all these grandbabies from. I'm not having any." I smile each time I hear it. There will be more.

Interesting thing: We were at an estate sale, and in the attic, there was a wicker doll carriage. Tim was quite taken with that. He did not buy it, but then fretted about it. He thought that it would go nicely with the antique crib and the doll furniture that we already have. He thought it would look nice in playroom. He actually went back to get it, but it was gone. It tickles me though, that he has the same vision of the house as I do. He sees grandchildren not yet here, just like I do. He's a quiet man and doesn't speak of these things, but they are there.