Not us! We are still here!
Mom and Dad took off today, and it's amazing how much faster the truck goes, even up the hills, when it's empty. I could be wrong, but I think Dad was even going a bit over 60 at times. Some people might imply that my stuff was too heavy, but that's just plain unkind. Most of it was Jack's air compressor and generator. All the boxes of canned food, the kitchen table, clothes, and oh maybe just a few boxes of books were mere trifles, I assure you.
It was hard to say good-bye, so we put it off as long as we could. I had to run an errand in Plentywood, so Mom drove me in, following Dad in the truck. A couple of times I thought I heard her muttering something about wishing and slowing down and not passing trucks and stuff, but I could've been mistaken. It was pretty faint.
We all ate lunch at a cute little diner in downtown P-wood. Unfortunately, there is a limit to how many french fries a person can consume, and all too soon the dread moment arrived. We walked them out to the truck, except for Tiggy, who hobbled. (She had dropped a humongous board on her foot last night and badly bruised her foot.)
After a sad-but-short good-bye (after all, it was 1:00 pm and they had many miles to go before bedtime), we hurried to the road to wave till they were out of sight.
That turned out to be quite a while. The main drag of Plentywood is very flat and straight, and has to be at least a mile long. At 30 mph with a stoplight, well, you do the math. Our arms grew tired as we waved and waved and waved. They disappeared around the bend at the far end of town, and we lowered our arms. All except for Devon. "I can still see them," he insisted, still waving. I finally had to remove him bodily from the sidewalk.
We are all waiting eagerly for them to come back. For now, the house is quiet, and very, very empty.