Never was there a weekend like this. Perfect temperature, endless sun, no wind. Biking, horseback riding, cinnamon donuts and Byrne Dairy chipwiches, and the most lovely paddle of the Moose River. My strategy of filling my boat racks once again worked to keep me from bringing another boat home from the Mountain Man, but it didn’t keep us from bringing other outdoor goodies home. We stayed in a cabin but would have been just as comfortable in a tent. The moon was full enough to engender an argument about whether it was truly full or not. If I never have another autumn weekend like that again, it was enough.
- When she first slept in our room, I was terrified that first night, listening the entire time for her to stop breathing. Since that night, even when she was away, she was always under some form of supervision, and we had some idea of where she was and who she was with. And then she posted on Facebook that she was going to a concert at SPAC. Didn’t know who was driving her or how late they’d be driving back, and of course wouldn’t even know that she got home safely. This had to happen eventually, but it was surprisingly unnerving.
- She called and wants to join a fraternity. This was so far out of my realm of experience and expectations that I didn’t know what to say. (Starting with the fact that she called, instead of texting.) My understanding of fraternities is solely as organizations dedicated to binge-drinking and date rape, and I don’t think she’s into either one. Recall that I demanded that she read “Smashed” before going off to college, and I don’t think she ever did. But this is her decision, her experience, not mine.
- She sent a note asking us to bring her knitting needles.