GRANDDAUGHTER. WITH PUPPY.

Family. You never know what’s going to happen, but you do know that whatever happens, it will be complicated.

A couple of days ago, my granddaughter arrived and moved into the southern end of our house, otherwise known as “downstairs.”

Bonnie, meet Nitro. Nitro? Meet Bonnie.

Bonnie, meet Nitro. Nitro? Meet Bonnie.

With Nitro, the puppy. And laundry. I will not go into any of the details of how this happened because I’m not entirely clear on them myself. It just happened. Like a meteor hitting the house or a flash flood. There we were, enjoying a quiet Sunday.

My son, the leading edge of the oncoming wave, explained that Kaity was on her way over.

“How nice. A Sunday visit,” says Granny Marilyn. Fifteen minutes later, she was moving in. With puppy. Nitro.

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Garry, who had gone into the shower a little before the arrival of the son, emerged to find himself in a new world order. Although I explained that it was just as much a surprise to me as to him, I suspect he thinks I’m holding out on him.

I’m not. Honest.

I don’t know how long this will last. It’s fine with me, however it shakes out. If anyone is going to live with us, my granddaughter would be my first choice. Garry’s too, though he is worried about finding himself in charge of Nitro. I understand his concern.

As long as she house breaks and trains the puppy properly (I think he may be growing in the general direction of pretty big) and she keeps the place reasonably tidy, I’m good. Kaity grew up in this house, so there are no surprises laying in wait. She is comfortable in the space, knows that autumn brings the mice and spring, the ants. Though I think Nitro will be a formidable force with which any invading critter will have to reckon. He grows as I watch.

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Everything else will sort itself out. This is probably a healthy move for Kaity. It’s time for her to separate from mommy. We all need to do it and it’s never easy. She can lead an independent life here, with little interference, but backup when and if needed.

I’m a bit pixellated by the rapid changes in life, so if I’m not writing as much, it’s because I’m busy absorbing a new reality. Keep in mind that Kaity could change her mind and leave tomorrow — be gone as fast as she arrived. I’m not quite sure how much to invest in this. I think I’ll keep my head low and let it sort itself out.

If I have learned nothing else in the past decade, it’s that young people need to make their own choices. Unless they ask for advice? Shut up, be supportive, be loving, and keep out of the line of fire.

HOPPING ON THAT SOUTHBOUND TRAIN

THE TREASURE CHEST – THURSDAY PHOTO PROMPT

Carrie and Rob were talking. About the things they would do if only.

If only they discovered a forgotten bank account or won the lottery. It wouldn’t have to be a huge win. By lottery standards, a very modest win would do the job nicely. Enough money to fix some broken things around the house. Maybe pay off the lingering credit debt and the car.

And take a trip. Carrie wanted Paris. Rob still yearned for Hollywood. With a enough money to fly first class and stay in a really nice hotel. Maybe they could do both.

But right now, Rob had obligations. Responsibilities. He had to drive some hundreds of miles to his family home in Pennsylvania. Mom and dad were decades gone, but somehow, none of the kids had been willing to clear out the old house. Rob’s youngest brother and his wife had lived there for a long time and now, they were gone. As were his other siblings. He was the only one left. He knew he could hire professionals to clean it, but that seemed cold.

treasure chest

The old house was huge. Two attics. A couple of basements, one of which was blocked off. Rob didn’t want to know what might lurk there. As he climbed the creaky, narrow stairs to the attic, Rob was hit by a wave of nostalgia. He remembered rainy days with his brothers, pretending to be bandits or pirates or explorers.

As he climbed from the stairwell to the light, he was surprised at how tidy and organized the space was. There were boxes, of course. Racks of old clothing, each item carefully zipped in a tinted plastic cover. Plenty of dust too and it swirled around his legs as he walked across the creaky floor. He found himself smiling. Some second-hand store was going to have a treasure trove of goodies to sell.

Against the wall, near the east-facing window was something he didn’t remember. A huge, dark trunk. For the life of him, he couldn’t recall it. If it had it been there when he was a kid, he’d surely remember. It was just the thing to inspire dreams of loot and booty to a child with even a hint of imagination.

So now it’s your turn to imagine what Rob found inside …

Thursday photo prompt – The Chest… #writephoto