Don’t ya just hate it when you see your friends posting all those pictures from the beach? While I’m sure they just want to share their good time, it’s almost like they’re taunting you with the sun and fun while you’re stuck back at home having to work and do your normal stuff – stuff which does not include being at the beach.
You sound jealous, Duane. You’re darn right I’m jealous. Blake Shelton hit it on the head: "Some beach, somewhere." We all need to feel the salt air at least once a year. I mean Floating Mill is a fine beach but it isn’t quite Daytona, but then the chances of getting stung by a jellyfish on Center Hill Lake are minimal.
If I sound forlorn it’s because I’m the only member of the Sherrill household who wasn’t at Disney and Daytona this week.
That’s right, the family is in the Sunshine State, sending me pictures from the Magic Kingdom while I’m writing this column. Why did they leave you, Duane? Are you that big of a jerk?
Actually, the reason I was left behind was to help my brother-in-law who is wheelchair bound and decided not to go on the trip with his family who accompanied mine to Florida. I’ve been helping out at their farm, feeding the chickens and ducks and collecting the eggs. It was during this past week that I realized what a city boy I really am. I was born and raised down in Warren County but have spent little time on the farm. This week marked the first time I touched a “warm egg” straight from the hen’s egg maker as I was collecting from the hen house. Too bad they don’t have a cow.
Anyway, I figured out that jealousy isn’t the worst thing about not getting to go Florida. No, the worse thing is that I’ve been alone all week. You may find this odd but at the age of 53 I’ve never been all alone in my house for a week. Maybe a night or two but not an entire week. I didn’t really think about it until the second night when I came in from work to an empty house. No Henry (my 12-year-old) coming up to show me his recent YouTube posting, no Jack (my 20-year-old son) to talk about how his biceps are getting bigger than mine (not), or no Janice (my lovely wife) telling me what a slob I am.
Instead, it’s just quiet. Some people may welcome such peace but I’m used to operating under a bit of chaos. Peace and quiet makes me nervous. There’s too much time for thinking.
The family is due back tonight and frankly, at the risk of sounding all mushy, I’ve missed them. I think I’ll put up and banner or something, welcoming them home. I, however, will avoid telling them how bad it was staying all alone while they were gone. I don’t want them to think I’m getting soft.
Contact Duane Sherrill at news@smithvillereview.com
