I have the house to myself and it feels strange but only because the last few weeks this house has been void of quiet. I have missed that quiet and then I became accustomed to not having that quiet. I now find myself readjusting and realigning with the quiet. It is not something that I have totally embraced yet. The husband is off to Texas to work. The grandson that plans on spending the night is off with friends right now and I have the television tuned in to the weather channel and muted. I can hear the dryer making it's revolutions and the washing machine spinning through a cycle.
Occasionally a car can be heard, whisking tires on the pavement, a puff of warm air biting into the coolness of the night, it's trail of exhaust marking it's passage.
I'm ready to climb into my bed and continue the quiet. The grandson is past due to return so I'll wait quietly. The cell phone buzzes and it's Ted with an excuse for his lateness and an apology. He is at a friends house and dependant of them to transport him home. They are watching a movie and he will be home when the movie is over. A few last minute instructions on locking up and turning off the lights when he gets here. I'm nodding with my Ambien. It's time to slide down off these pillows and pull up the covers and call it a night. It's quiet here still.