We’re home! H and I are fighting off our second straight colds (deeply, cosmically, unfair), the house looks like a bomb hit it (when it was only sweet B), and I’m hoping that this time the plumber has correctly diagnosed the problem and restored hot water in the barn apartment.
The Southwest flights from Minneapolis to Chicago and Chicago to Hartford were okay, though we had to pull a full OJ in Chicago to get from Gate 2 to gate 20 in time to catch the second one. This put H, the baby, and me in the next-to-last set of seats, and occasioned a little kerfuffle with a pill of a guy who wouldn’t shift seats so B in her carrier could have the legally required window seat. A flight attendant, noting the coalescing protest of the surprising number of nearby moms traveling with toddlers, headed off trouble with a little personality and the offer of a drink. Which, after our sprint down the concourse, I thought we deserved as much as the cluck.
We got in the door here about 12:30 AM Wednesday. I’m almost recovered, but am humbled to note that A, his dad A1, and Jasper the Wonderdog last night completed their grind of a journey from Rochester, Minnesota to Rochester, New York, driving a big U-Haul with A’s car trailing behind. I can’t speak for their condition or recovery.
We all meet up back at the Concord, New Hampshire, apartment on Friday. A will start his new job on June 1, H will begin orientation for her residency on the 15th. B will be introduced next Wednesday to the apparently fantastic Annie, who will be caring for her.
I will require coddling, consideration, lots of tea, and the occasional stiff drink as I try to cope with what undoubtedly will be a doozy of a case of separation anxiety.
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