My baby’s gone for a whole week. Sniff. I miss him!

Put him on a train last night, and sent him off to the tender mercies of the Colorado crowd. I’m so stoked he’s finally going on a vacation, since he hasn’t had one in three years. He seemed visibly relaxed the moment he decided to go – the man desperately deserves some down time.

All he does is work, really. We don’t have much of a social life any more (being too old now to survive much of one, I think) and my man does work hard for a living… and he dutifully gives his money over to me, and I pay bills with it. It’s got to get a little stale after awhile.

But the good news is that he’s probably at Ron’s house by now, getting hugs and smiles from old friends, maybe having a real beer at a microbrewery, and feeling that wonderful feeling of having discretionary cash in his pocket and being on day one of being on vacation for a whole week.

The weird thing about being with someone day in, day out for seven years is this: I can feel it as he gets farther away. It’s weird. I can always feel it when we’re seperated, but somehow when I’m the one traveling the pang is less intense – probably because I’m occupied with the new environs.

Last night, as his train moved farther and farther away, I started to miss him. It sounds somewhat maudlin but I’m trying to express an experience more than a feeling; I can tell when my husband gets far away from me. Once he was off doing something, I don’t know what, maybe fishin’ or something or picking up materials for a job, and they got lost or disorderly and ended up in another state, and I already knew he’d been many hundreds of miles away from me when he came home and told me about it. I could feel it. Or perhaps a lessening of it? Something. I can feel a pang once we get a certain distance physically from one another.

We’re not phone people, so in the past when one of us travelled we didn’t even speak on the phone, but I asked him to call me once or twice to check in and he smiled as if he were pleased I wanted his attention and he said he would. I’m looking forward to hearing that relaxed tone of voice when he calls, that “I have no responsibilities for days!” kind of voice. He’s certainly earned it.

Bo and Joe commented that Brett already seemed to have put a load down, that he looked as if he’d already been on vacation, when we stopped by 1-Stop yesterday afternoon and he told them he was catching the 7:21 PM California Zephyr to Denver in a few hours.

He was long overdue for a vay-cay, that man o’ mine. (And I get the whole bed to myself!)

…Joe seems to be moved in. He has his desk set up, and the boxes in his room are piled neatly. We moved the rifles into another storage area. He slept here last night, at least, but that doesn’t really count toward moving in as much as you might think, since he crashes here on average of 1.5 nights a month.

He’s off now cleaning his old house with Josh, I guess.

I was hoping to work on the Grand Orleans Hotel site, but they haven’t sent me much. I got three pictures last week I can start with, but no content. So I guess I’ll putt around with it and see what I can do with what I have so far.

I’m reading a wonderful book today called The Probable Future by Alice Hoffman. Yum. It’s gorgeous prose and a scene in it was so well written and beautifully expressed that it actually made me cry. I’ll cry at the cheesiest movie, but words on a page have to be exceptionally powerful to make me weep. It’s rather exciting to read something so stirring.

In fact, I think I’ll go read more. Ciao!
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