We're not broken but bent...

Am all out of sorts.

The house is empty again.

I stood and gazed at the clear space at the foot of the stair, where until recently, discarded clothes, dropped, repeatedly as the little lady of the house came in, either from work, or "socialising", and was too tired to hang a jacket or cardi up, shoes would be kicked off, and piled on top of what had been kicked off the night before.

Boy would abandon sports bags, after a training session. No amount of reminding him would make him empty sweaty clothes out of the bag, until he came to go to the gym again. If we were lucky, he'd throw them on the floor by the washing machine... if not, they would be added to the pile.

So the house is quiet, and Si and me are rattling around - but tonight, our evening was interrupted by texts from the Girl in Maga, and the Boy in North Carolina... One of them is having fun, drinking too much, laughing too much, and generally having a good time. The other is working hard, training hard and studying hard... but since he managed to consume a bucket of Moonshine at the weekend and survive, I'm presuming he is enjoying life too.

To make things right. I kicked my shoes from the front door towards the shoe rack; dropped my hand bag (complete with binoculars - I found them); knocked a couple more pair of shoes from the rack. And now, mess returned. I'm happy and content and can go to bed .