Emptiness – blessed emptiness

For 32 years my home has been the residence, not only of a family of four, then a family of three, but also various returning adult children (I like to say that my kids are on bungee cords)

Now, for the first time, my oldest son has recuperated all (well almost all anyway – one small cupboard’s worth can be deemed nothing) his belongings; the younger one has been gone for 21 months (mostly, but even the odd nights spent here have dwindled to the rare ones – o.k. the cellar room still has a bunch of stuff, but that is the room that I dedicated to him and someday he will bring it into order as well); and, my house mate’s daughter returned to the USA this week as well after spending eight months with us.

This is not to say that none of them will return, nor that they won't be welcomed with open arms, but when, and if, they do so, it will now be with the status of “guest”:

Great

Unmistakably

Entertaining and

Satisfactory

Talents or Tonics

I am finally going to be able to attack the attic and turn it into a guest suite: after all, if my sister and brother-in-law can contemplate a total house renovation (and we’re talking take-it-down-to-the-studs renovation here), I can surely pull together two rooms. The old carpet has been replaced by wooden flooring so now the rest needs to happen.

It was fun for the first 32 years – it will be fun for the next ones!

One rule: advance notice – and after a season of plenitude when it comes to guests, I am very tempted to limit them now to once a month!

Then again, everyone who has been here, has been lovely so even if the turnover became a bit hectic, it wouldn’t surprise me if that loan rule bites the dust quickly. The advance warning remains (and by that I don't mean 24 hours, but rather a month or so).

P.S. The empty cupboards are not meant to be filled, but three shelves already hold accumulated linens.