For the first time in two years, Shaun and I had the house to ourselves. Lars went for an extended weekend stay with Grandma and Grandpa while we began to feel the inklings of what is what like to be young 20 somethings galavanting around town as we pleased. Well, we didn't really galavant, but we did go contra dancing which felt completely liberating driving to town, staying up (a bit) later than we're used to, and without the worry of the common 5:45 am wakeup nose tweaking we're accustomed to by our dear little Lars. 

With the days wide open, I can't say I accomplished a lot. My tendency is to catch up on chores, time-consuming projects and organizing the farm and house. This time, though, I gave into my lazy American self and watched Downton Abbey in the middle of the day while knitting and making ample baked goods to snack on. It felt soo good and completely satisfied that couch-potatoe part of me that rarely gets to express itself. By Sunday morning, I was tired of sitting and believe it or not, tired of knitting (that was a first). So, I fed the sheep some old Halloween pumpkins, assessed the hay situation (we're definitely going to need more!), and found some left over Flicker feathers that our barn cats caught. I'm amazed at how slow the days go by without Lars nearby. I do love the pace of being on my own but somewhere deep in my being I knew something was missing, not quite full. 

We're reunited now and although I wasn't prepared for a 5:30 am wake up this morning, there is nothing like a warm little body smothering your face demanding oats and play.