I am wearing a mantle of melancholy today, and I am not the only one. Tomorrow Big Lad heads to high school, after nearly 15 years of being here at home pretty much all of the time. He will jump in with both feet, leaving the house around 6:45 most mornings for marching band practice and arriving home after 5:30 thanks to soccer.
Last night we purchased the last of the school supplies (cobalt blue trainers, mechanical pencils), ate a special meal (our waiter, Tony, informed us that his name backward is Ynot, "as in 'Why not choose to order a salad with that fettucine Alfredo?'" *sigh*) and saw a movie that both of us adored (Safety Not Guaranteed, in case that link stops working some day).
Today we had a family picnic that went awry (Little Lad spent the whole time fussing about bugs and being hot and disliking carrots devoid of dip), but at least we took a moment to stand at the threshold together, right?
Still, even he -- the Ultimate Lover of School -- seems a bit tender. It has been a very special summer, and I think we all feel a bit wistful about moving on.
I will be back soon to talk about the rest of the England trip, our blissful almost-week in Iowa, a little end-of-summer amusement park outing and who knows what else. And I am beginning a little "me" blog, not to replace this one but to celebrate whatever comes next. See you soon.