My in-laws left yesterday morning. I am exhausted to the point of tears, but for some reason I can't seem to slow down. The thing is, autumn is in the air, and as much as I enjoy the season, I am not ready for it. The summer has been lovely and fleeting, and I am just not ready to let go yet. I have been swimming at least three or four times a week, in addition to working 40 hours and walking in the woods and having a life. I just can't get over how lovely the water is here. Lakes dot the landscape, and rivers run everywhere. There are more swimming holes than people I enjoy spending time with in this town.

And that's another thing. Two of my very good friends are leaving. For good. Soon. So I'm running around like mad, trying to soak everything in and will the time to last longer. Is it making me a better writer? No. Is it giving me more to write about? You bet.

The In-Laws arrived at 8pm last Sunday. I spent the entire day cleaning the house (Real cleaning, mind you- not "Oh shit this band needs a place to crash and the bedclothes need washing" cleaning) from top to bottom. I cleaned like I haven't cleaned since my parents came to visit, and that was two years ago. Then, I went to the store and bought fresh cut local flowers, fabulous rosemary lemon bread from Bohemian Bakery, and a large jug of beer from Hill Farmstead (which I was able to acquire without having to encounter the jackass who brews it, which was a huge bonus). I even cleaned the car, which was a good thing, because we spent the bulk of the day in it on Monday.
We started at Pennycluse, which is on my top five all time list of fantastic breakfast places, despite their lack of ability to season things appropriately. I love the atmosphere there, and as long as there's a salt shaker on the table, you're golden. I suggested that we stop and buy two more umbrellas, since we only had two and it was pissing down rain and we were headed to a museum which would require walking from building to building. We ate breakfast and promptly forgot about the umbrellas (or else my suggestion was ignored, but I will never know for certain). The museum was fine. Not terribly exciting for me, since it was my fourth visit, but the ILs seemed to enjoy it well enough.
On Tuesday I went to work, then that evening we took them to Hen of the Wood for dinner. It is one of the best restaurants in Vermont, hands down. We ate until we couldn't move. It was fabulous. Wednesday we stopped at my friend L's house to see the garden, in all of it's fabulous green bean and fuckton of green tomatoes glory, then went up to the Northeast Kingdom. We had pizza at Parker Pie, which is terrific pizza in an impossibly remote location, and then drove down to Lake Willoughby, where they all waded in six inches of water (due to bad planning and inappropriate bathing attire) while I swam around by myself in the delightfully clean, clear, and cold water. We had dinner at the Culinary School that night. Thursday I worked, and came home to find the dogs antsy and the b.h. up to his elbows making dinner. I ran the boys to the woods for an hour and came home just in time to eat.
Friday I worked all day, and then came home just in time to eat a quick meal of leftovers with the ILs before they turned in. Saturday I woke up and dropped them off at the train station before going to work. After work, I came home, changed clothes, and took the dogs first to the woods for a brisk walk and then to the river to cool off. This has become our habit. I am going to miss it. I suppose I will have to find a new one for the cold weather.
Sigh.