Last Saturday without my wife . . .

at least until after labor day! Yahoo! I enjoy my day with the kids, just them and I, but I miss her too. And from Memorial Day on her shift has been from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. From Labor Day to Memorial Day it is 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. and that 2 hr difference is all the difference in the world. She gets time with the kiddos before they are in bed, we get time to chat and catch up. So I am stoked that this is the last day.

Our day was fun and busy here. Our sunny start to the day gave way to clouds and of course, spits of rain. Truly I was transported to Seattle while I was sleeping. Ick! We went and did our banking, our shopping and then to the garden store to get flowers for Kirsty's garden. This was Rob's mothers day gift to her which was deferred till he finished his coming of age program. He finished that but we have had such rainy weekends he couldn't plant. Today, though overcast most of the day, was clear enough to get the plants in. KC and I helped him plant. You should see my kids at a garden store. They go ape for plants. Then they all seem to love the digging in the dirt and getting the little plants in their new homes. This small shade garden is outside the window of our workroom and she sits right beside it. There are 4 or 5 perennials there that we have planted for her over the years. Hostas, bleeding heart, and a few other shade loving things. We ringed it all with bright pink impatiens, and added a few clumps of begonias for color as well.

Then we made lemon dream pie to have for dessert with supper tonite and I did the housework. After supper we played soccer in the back yard --this is Johnson Erikson soccer and doesn't in any way resemble what the rest of the known world calls soccer! Finished it up with some muddy play in the sand box so there have been early tubs and snacks and the house is settling down a bit now.

Next Saturday Robbie leaves for a week of away camp. The house is always so oddly silent when he is not here. This is odd because Rob is my quietest child and yet the hole of his absence is always profoundly loud to me.