As soon as school let out on Friday I ran out to Grand Junction for the long weekend. Fully immersed in grandparenting, Mom and Dad tended Jack while Rachel and Ben were in San Francisco celebrating their 10th anniversary. The weekend was not exactly quiet with a two-year-old around who is fond of giggling, banging on the piano, and pointing out every single "truck!" but it was uneventful. Mom and I tried to put a dent in the fruit harvest by canning peaches and plums and by making jam. We went to church, we swam, we grilled, and I indulged further in my recent case of book bulimia (just finished #11 in the last 12 days).
This morning I packed up my suitcase, my cat, and several jars of fruit and made the trek back over the mountains. There was a bit of holiday traffic, but not nearly as much as I was dreading so I was only held up for about 45 minutes. I arrived home to find one of the painters still hard at work, his buddy home sick for the day. Eric told me that it will all be wrapped up tomorrow night. They're planning on putting the last coats of paint on tomorrow afternoon so they will be here when I get home from work. They will then move all of my furniture under my direction (although I did assure them that I would put the books back myself. They looked relieved at that) and clean the floors one last time.
Natasha's hiding out in my closet in the meantime. She's a bit freaked out, as you might imagine. Once the workmen are finished, though, I'll have the rest of the evenings this week to unpack and put my home back in order, so perhaps by next Friday she'll venture out.