That's been the question lately. The big living room on Queen Anne, with its views of Elliott Bay and West Seattle, is empty now, there's no soap in the shower, no towel hanging on the towel rack. There is one lonely nightstand, many stacks and bags and boxes of unsorted papers, not to mention the junk drawers in the kitchen and the coats in the closet. I just can't seem to get it all in hand.
Soon though, July 31st is the last day I'll have the keys. The mini-farm shaped up nicely for the bachelorette party this weekend, 13 girls fed and watered and boozed up and barbecued then tucked in on air mattresses and sofas and in sleeping bags on Tom's bed upstairs. We sat around the outdoor (fire marshall approved) fire pit and played Ten Fingers (I won, or is it lost?), danced and sang to my Madonna DVD and hula hooped in the living room. I took a few photos of the girls all sitting up in the mini-barn loft but really the best photos were the ones we all took in our heads when Jen and I looked at each other and said "Cameras?", then "No".
As soon as they walked out the door on Sunday afternoon, boxes seemed to explode from the closets and the kitchen suddenly had more dishes and marshmallows and boxes of tea and plastic utensils than it did cupboards and drawers for them all. We kept finding Emmy curled up on one of the leftover air mattresses in the living room, or totally sacked out on the lawn, and she didn't even wait for any of the humans to go upstairs for bed before she did.
I was in Seattle last night, craving the farm but still happy in a way to have just one small simple room there. A good closet can make all the difference sometimes.