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On My Own

Well, the King of our castle is off to baseball camp.  Over the next week Andy will be in the field and up at bat, he will pitch and catch, spit pumpkin seed shells and talk it up in the dugout.  He will have Yankee trainers rub his shoulders, ice his knees and disingenuously marvel (while appearing completely credible) at the athletic prowess of these campers-of-a-certain-age.

Andy left with a suitcase filled to capacity.  Two baseball gloves; cleats; Yankee swag from his prior camp days – baseball hats, sneakers, long-sleeved t-shirts, short-sleeve t-shirts.  For all I know there are Yankee socks and underwear carefully folded in his suitcase along with dress shirts for their special bonding dinners, jeans for those casual evenings of drinking at the hotel bar, etc.  You want to make sure you’re one of the cool kids at camp – sartorially as well as athletically.  His carry on?  A Yankee bat bag, of course.  The amount of testosterone which is now coursing through his body is exponentially greater than it was a week ago.  Buh-bye sweetie.

So, for the past couple of days I have been on my own.  The palace has been alive with frivolous pleasure and impetuous pursuits.  I really hesitate to share it with you, lest you think less of me as a result.  A wanton woman, with a fickle tendency to move from one amusement to the next.

I have organized the pantry, the shelves of spices and the linen closet.  A new featherbed sits atop our mattress.  Two books finished; new music filling the house with the volume high enough that it can be relished in any room.  In a moment of cheeky adventure, I scoured Whole Foods for some highly caloric delight that would normally never make its way past my lips.  I ended up with sesame seed seaweed wraps and a bag of Good ‘N Plenty from the drugstore.  C-r-a-z-y, huh?

I know what you’re thinking.  If I’m cavorting with such abandon so early in the week, how will I manage to maintain this pace until the weekend?  Stamina my friends, I have stamina.  And a somewhat perverse definition of having fun.  Breakfast at the diner with my kids – goofy and fun.  The sun offering gorgeous shadows and prisms in the kitchen while the dishwasher hums and the Sirs grab a mid-morning snooze – delightful.  Knowing that my husband is having the time of his life – it’s fun for me too.  Happiness need not shout its presence to me, I hear it loud and clear in this moment – right now.  The week will unfold however it will, with bitter cold weather expected and an abiding warmth at the prospect that I need do nothing differently in order to feel happy.   It really is ‘all good’ and I challenge any umpire to tell me that I’m not ‘safe at home’.