strides, and life as normal.

Last night, I went to bed leaving Gabe with nothing but the advice to get his stuff organized for this morning’s Amtrak ride back to Connecticut. Remarkably, as I discovered this morning, he’d done exactly that. IPod, phone, and computer were all charged and stowed, clothes were re-stuffed in the duffel, and his college keycard/i.d. was clipped to his jacket. Oh, and his retainer was fizzed clean and back in his mouth. As we got in the car he asked me if I had his train ticket. (I did.)

Now he is northbound, by rail, and one Fall term more grown-up. Next Year has clearly been a timely topic at school, as many of his group plan to continue as full-fledged Mitchell College students next year, and, indeed, we got a related pack of info by mail a couple weeks ago to keep parents in the loop, as kids get their records in order. But I had barely broached the topic upon his arrival home when he replied, with unequivocal resolve, that he would stick with Plan A: Finish this year at Mitchell, then head off to Guilford in North Carolina to study creative writing, Japanese, and an eventual semester abroad in Japan. No waffling on this it seems.

Meanwhile, this morning I ventured out the back door without a jacket. Otis the kitty had zipped out for his morning scamper and seemed--in this late November dip below freezing--to be ready to come back in. He squinched through the fence and around to the front yard, where I apprehended him at a moment during which his urge to scoot and play was offset by ambivalence about the air temperature. But then we--Otis and I--found ourselves at the front door, which I had not yet unlocked from the inside. Drat. Carry the cat around back, or ring the doorbell for Jeff? Luckily, Freddi the dog would not allow Jeff to ignore the doorbell, but he positively could not process what to do once he arrived at the front door. I stood there, clutching the kitten for a moment, as Jeff stared through the door panes gazing at apparently nothing, which was located somewhere beyond my right shoulder. Freddi, in the meantime, wagged her tail at me, wondering why the heck I was not coming in. So I raised my voice to insulated glass-penetrating volume and hollared “Open the door!” Twice or so. Finally, recognition dawned and Jeff did exactly that.

Tomorrow, Rachel’s back to teaching, Gabe and Olivia back to school, and Becca into work as usual. Jeff will get something other than a peanut-butter sandwich for lunch.