I am drinking coffee, sitting on the window seat in my kitchen, looking out our neighbor’s backyard trees and listening to someone practicing the flute.  The flutist is very good and the music is soothing.  When the flutist takes a break, the birds call to each other.  A little bit of peace and tranquility in a bustling city.  POB (partner of blogger) is showering after the gym and TLP (our son, the little prince) is playing in his room after cuddling and rough-housing with me.

TLP is tired from yesterday’s adventure.  Cousin Gentle took him to a train museum in Connecticut.  They are both fascinated by trains (as only boys — young and old — can be) and they rode on an old coach, played inside an antique caboose, went round the turntable on an antique train car.  These were some of the many awesome things at the museum for train aficionados.  They had quite an adventure coming back — a missed bus, and hitchhiking (ok with the nice lady from the museum) to another town to get a different connection to another train that would bring them home.

I am glad that I didn’t know about the “lift from the kind lady from the museum” until after they were safely on the train bound for New York City.  Of course, I was mildly hysterical just having the knowledge that it happened.  Who am I kidding?  I was ready to send a helicopter and airlift them to safety.  POB talked me off the ledge.  All I know is that I kissed TLP at 10:30am and didn’t kiss him again until 8:00pm.  And at some point during that time, he was depending on the kindness of strangers.  (And we all know how that strategy worked out for Blanche DuBois (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blanche_DuBois).)

TLP and Cousin Gentle arrived and we fed them.  They (and we) relaxed, luxuriating in the safety of their being home and having the freedom to give into the fatigue of a long, exciting, stressful and successful trip.

And, having my family back in one piece, under the same roof, makes the tranquility of this morning even more glorious.