I got up at 4:20 this morning to take my daughter to the airport. We were both feeling a little bleary after the big day yesterday, and her whirlwind trip. I hugged and kissed her goodbye at the curb, turned around, and drove back home to get immediately back in bed, whereupon I slept till almost nine.
Shortly after that, the historian drove Supriya's cousin to the airport, and then the house was empty. My son and his family also left Salt Lake this morning--by now, they should almost be home. So it was just us, with only a few remaining errands (returning a tux, meeting the chair-and-table rental people at the venue for the pick-up) and a lot of red and pink roses to remind us of it all.
I made myself some pancakes.
I chatted with my daughter in Scotland.
I made the list of things I need to do this week. This took awhile, since I had to wait for my head to clear to let everything come into focus.
I made some mint lemonade from my mother's recipe (make a simple syrup, 2 c. sugar to 2 1/2 c. water; when the sugar has dissolved, turn off the heat, add a cup of mint leaves and stems, and let it steep while the syrup cools. Meanwhile, juice lemons and oranges till you have about a cup of juice, maybe 6 lemons and 2 oranges--I used clementines, so I used more. When the syrup has cooled, strain the syrup and mix the juice in. Use 1/4 c. mint lemonade concentrate to 6 oz. of water, or to taste. Make it icy!).
I cleaned up the kitchen.
I sent a few emails for work. Meanwhile, I drank a glass of mint lemonade. It's nice to have mint lemonade in one's metaphorical pocket--refreshment upon which one can rely.
I wandered the aisles of the grocery store, getting this and that, a few pistachios, some potato chips, a little basil, a little parsley, four peaches.
I collapsed into a nap.
After dinner, the historian and I found ourselves desultorily watching two movies--The Outlaw Josie Wales, which is, we both agree, a very durable movie, bearing pretty much endless rewatchings, and Role Models, with Paul Rudd, Seann William Scott, and Christopher Mintz-Plasse--not a great film by any means, but with a killer fantasy role playing battle scene at the end that nearly redeems its failings and excesses.
At a commercial break, I made myself some toast. Bruiser lay crosswise on the bed, ensuring that the two humans of the household could not both be on the bed, not with any degree of comfort, anyway. We reached the battle scene. As I remembered, it was totally satisfying.
'Shall we?' the historian said, meaning Bruiser and his walk.
So we went. And that was the day after the big day.