We took Mouse back to university yesterday – he does seem to have been at home for ages, from mid-December to the beginning of February is an enormously long break. However, it is the way Stirling works, and he won’t get a holiday at Easter, so… I won’t see him for ages. Unless I can persuade him to come home for the odd weekend.
The thing is, up until yesterday I was happily waiting for him to go back (it can’t be good for him to play the egg-box that much), but now I’m finding the house a bit quiet, especially as Hairy and Blossom were both here for the weekend too (Blossom made me an amazing pair of earrings) – they went back this afternoon.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really suffer from empty nest syndrome, and by tomorrow I will be once again revelling in the knowledge that when I put things down they will stay there, and that no-one will eat all the food whilst I am at work, and that both my boys are actually quite happy where they are. But today, I have been indulging in displacement activity. I have changed the beds, hoovered quite a lot of things, washed the kitchen floor, repotted the chives, refilled the wood baskets and the bird feeders, and washed trangias.