Last morning and I am as darty and anxious as a tiny fish in the coral. We've had our breakfast, Mr. Moon is in town returning the scooter and I am in the process of packing up.
It's going to take me the entire weekend to do the laundry. Fourteen days worth of laundry. Do I remember how to do laundry? Do I remember how to cook? Wash dishes? Shop in English? Do I have a broom? A mop? Are my chickens all still alive? Is Maurice still in my house? Has my garden died? Are my phlox in bloom? Have the boys grown up to the point where I will not recognize them?
The cruise ships enter the channel, the dive boats come and go, collecting the divers, the tanks clank against cement, the birds sing. The sky is getting cloudy, the waves hiss at the shore, LaLoo wants to escape from her leash which is secured to a chair leg.
Mr. Moon is back from town. One less thing to worry about.
Are we really leaving? This is like coming here, only in reverse. The little bitchy bird who demanded food from his mama with squawks has graduated to finding and eating his own food but still hangs out with his mother. The turtles have not been seen for several days. I found out just this morning that the incredibly sweet guy who works in the restaurant whom I thought was twelve years old is actually twenty, married, and two months a father. Life here will go on without me just fine.
Life everywhere will go on without me just fine when I take my leave from it.
This is good to know.
We will be flying home soon.
It has been the best vacation ever in the history of the universe. For me, at least.
See you in Lloyd.