I knew my four children would move out one day. I just didn’t know it would feel like they all moved out on the SAME day. I had a fleeting sense of these impending departures during the summer, a passing thought that the dishes in the sink would be something me and the rhino would miss.

Now, it’s not only an empty sink here at Green Hope Farm, but an empty nest too.
I’ve mentioned Ben and Elizabeth’s departure to their own apartments. What I didn’t expect was that high school senior Emily also would completely vanish in front of my eyes. She has so many soccer practices, so many after school meetings, so much socializing to do. I think I saw her yesterday, but I am not sure. I may see her today, but I am not sure.

William and Jim are also busy. Last night, I was goofed up. I expected people, yes, a new sized group of people, but still some people, to come home eventually for dinner. It was so far after my idea of worry time when Jim and Will finally surfaced. And of course, my well crisped dinner was too much even though I tried to rein in my cooking volume.

After my meltdown, we tried to coordinate schedules for the week so I would be more prepared for my empty sink. Doesn’t look like even a low population dinner is in the offing soon.

So rhino and I are home alone thinking about how we can occupy ourselves.

We could dive into one of three four seven fourteen countless piles of paperwork. Sounds almost as much fun as a festive family dinner!

Nature truly abhors a vacuum. I kid you not. As I was writing this blog, the driver of a tractor trailer truck arrived at the door to say that he couldn’t make our hill with his load of glass bottles for us. He had to leave them at the bottom of the hill for me to bring up to the barn myself in our little truck.

Well, I am off to haul bottles.

And I have company. Rhino is willing to ride shotgun.