On my phone, there is a place to go and find out where specific family members are, in real life, right now. I haven't really used it yet but other people in our family do it all the time. In fact, just a half an hour ago I see that Rebecca sent a message to the five of us: "We can't find Benjamin."
There is no reason for alarm, but the girls were probably poking around looking to see if he was back at home in Haifa yet. He left yesterday afternoon, so he must be there by now and his battery must be dead. (Jon just commented: "Maybe he's at that Five Guys" as the last time we can see Benjamin's location is at Dulles, very close to that restaurant. I chuckled.)
Just an hour ago, Anna picked up the girls and took them to Dulles so they could resume their normal lives in Boston. Those were the last Groissers to leave the house -- Jon left for Shreveport yesterday morning -- and now I have four days of quiet ahead. I already know that my days will be full, but they won't be full of vegetable wrangling, and that is a huge shift in focus.
It takes me absolutely no time to shift into non-farm mode. You would think there would be some whiplash, after the steady pace and intensity of the last many months. But, nope, I have been here before and I am already looking at my cluttered house with off-season eyes. I could really use a dumpster in the front yard.
This winter the farm will not completely release its grip on us, but it will not be our only source of entertainment. There will be someone working on picking and selling vegetables all winter long, so the conversation won't go away. I hope to keep my distance from the day-to-day work but I already know that I will be needed in various ways as we navigate new relationships and roles (we have a new farmer joining us...lots of challenges ahead).
Benjamin was here for nearly three months, after being away for more than three years (except for visits for weddings), and he settled right back into the household without ruffling anything. The weddings and family gatherings have been frequent enough that he can still have projects lying around. He has a never-ending list of things he wants to make or fix or learn, and he only manages to get about two of them done on any particular visit. This time he had to write a paper for school that just took forever -- it ate up well over a month, with much gnashing of teeth. But as soon as that was done he could dive back into his world of metal and wood. Benjamin gets the most of anyone out of the shop resources that are available at the barn, which is pretty funny since he lives on the other side of the world. He made a mandolin that came out very well, and now he knows what he would do differently next time. And then he spent about a week learning to make a kitchen knife from a piece of steel that he ordered from Amazon. Lots of learning there, and we have a big scorch mark on our kitchen floor from the early phases when he was using the stove for heat, before he built a forge outside the barn. In the end, he said the handle was what gave him the most trouble, as he kept breaking it when he tried to bend it just a little too much, since wood has completely different properties from metal. Both the knife and the mandolin are quite beautiful.
When he left yesterday, I felt the same tearing of a mother's heart that I always feel when he leaves on his adventures. We have all had a lot of practice, saying goodbye to Benjamin, and we are determinedly unsentimental, as a group, but it takes me a few days to recover.
Ah, my phone just dinged From Benjamin: "Hey guys I'm back on the map." Alissa replied with a photo of herself and Rebecca, smiling and groggy, waiting for their plane. And Jon called a minute ago to tell me to get some parts ready for the mechanic this morning. All are accounted for. Not present, but where they should be.
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