DH and I took a trip down to the Gulf Coast—just the two of us at first, joined later by Bernard, who came down with friends. This was the first time in twenty years—seriously—that DH and I have taken a vacation without kids. We mostly slept. A lot.

ED took great care of the farm while we were gone, but is very glad we’re all back. She said it was an awful lot of work by herself.

Fall came while we were gone—it’s chilly out there this morning, with a little frost scattered around.

A few pictures: Moonmeadow on Flickr

We had a wonderful time on Ocracoke. We kayaked and clammed and fished and ate and bicycled and played cards. Actually, I’m exhausted, and looking forward to a little farming for relaxation!

Our farmsitter did a great job, as usual, though when we first got home, there were some little…mysteries. First, all the clocks in the house were missing, and were later discovered locked in the girls’ bedroom. Second, the lights and fans in my bedroom were all unplugged from their outlets. And third, we found a couple of labels in strange places: A label from a pair of new Schmidt work pants out by the puppy pen, and the label from a bottle of Rebel Yell whiskey on the floor in the kitchen. Interesting, huh?

Me, that is. I’m bored and restless, critical and difficult to live with. I can’t find any satisfaction in anything. I am enough of a grown-up to know that these times occur every so often in any life, and fret all you want against your becalmed state, it’ll end when it ends. But still.

We have sort of blown off our beach vacation this year, mostly because we were so late in getting it together that I just couldn’t face the details of arranging a vacation while at the same time arranging the farm to be ok while we are gone. I’m useless, I tell you! We’ll probably take a little trip to the coast later in the fall—maybe Okracoke. If I can get it together.

I wish you all would tell me what it is you do to refill your reservoirs of inspiration when you find yourself in this state.

I’ve been trying to compose a post about my trip down to the gulf coast—about how restorative it was for me, and about how heartbroken I feel about the oil spill—but for some reason I just can’t seem to do it. It really was wonderful—just a friend and I went down on the spur of the moment— it was like a retreat. I came back refreshed and ready to tackle summer and with new eyes to see the farm.

But it also felt like saying goodbye to the gulf, and as such was faintly tainted with horror and sadness. That part I still can’t shake. It’s so beautiful, and feels so doomed.

Here are some photos from my time down there, and now I’m looking forward to getting back to posts about the farm.

I ran away from home, but I’m back now. A real post coming soon!