A participant friend just emailed this photo of Teresa and me in downtown Monson, out on our morning walk before breakfast. The photo makes me happy and sad. For a week we were together every day, from morning till night. And now we won't lay eyes on each other for a year.

But I think our goofy smiles do capture something that happened over the week . . . the complete ease of being in this place, the excitement of doing our work together.

With Maudelle still in my house I haven't yet fully detached from the conference. Yesterday I took them out and about into Portland. We drove to Tom's work site and toured the seaside-palace-in-progress. We ogled a lighthouse and met some conference participants for a diner lunch. But by the time we got back home, both of us were exhausted. I fell asleep on the couch and slept so hard that when Tom walked in after work I was shocked. Looking down at me goggling up at him, he said, "I guess you've hit a wall." I guess I have. Thank goodness he grilled the steak for dinner, he washed the dishes, he talked and entertained. I managed the around-the-edges hostess acts, but, lordy, how the tired has crept up on me.

Delle will head out onto their travels this morning, and I will try to relax into some sort of quiet. I have a million household and garden tasks to catch up on, but I have no idea what I'll actually be able to do, given my sagging energy and the extreme heat. I haven't unpacked the bulk of my luggage yet. T and I haven't really been alone together. 

Just now an insubstantial rain is falling. Though Monson was nailed by five inches of rain a few nights ago, Portland didn't get a drop. The soil is dry. We need water, and the forecast is torrid. It is unlike me to keep the air conditioner going 24 hours a day. But even with the machine roaring away, nights are sticky in this house.

I will try to do some mowing early in the day. The weeds aren't too terrible, yet. But if I can't get anything done, I can't get anything done. I am not going berate myself.