White Noise...

Returning home from walking the dog, I left the windows open, no one's home. The tiny nuance of traffic on the main drag is far overshadowed by the cheeps of tiny birds, cackles of crows, and falcons crying in the breeze; sounds only interrupted by an occasional child's voice. The dog's already snoring in the corner, sleeping it off until her Dad comes home. Perfect end to an imperfect day, uninterrupted by the chaos of white noise.

The peace will not last of course, as the husband will be home soon. White noise seems to follow him, the television mysteriously left on, relentless ads playing on his opened face book feed, tiny Vegas like sounds of coins being added from his cell phone games. Youngest is just as bad. We listened for days to incessant buzzing as his old phone, screen shattered and unreadable, slowly died on the kitchen table. Funny, for two people so adamant to not be technologically connected, they certainly live with their head in the password protected cloud.

And the peace did not last as they both came home at the same time. Youngest was only here for a few minutes, and his quick exit just adds to the palatable stress between him and the husband. I can see the tiny steps forward, while the husband only sees the bigger picture.

I continue to hold my ground, speaking up when I see something unacceptable. One would not think I would have to remind him that civilized people say hello and goodbye to each other, but here we are. When I said I would not leave the door open for him the other night, he said he'd sleep down at the pond. I reminded him he could sleep in the driveway to avoid randos and wildlife. He miraculously made it home on time instead. Last night he was home 3 hours early.

I find him reading in his car often, deeply lost in a book, enveloped in the warm coma inducing sun shining through the windows, cracked ever so slightly, to venting the permanent smell of marijuana. He's re-registered himself at the local Community College for a start in September. The irony is that he's been registered for months now, but since he did it then because he was bored, he didn't remember. We are scheduling an appointment to sit down with a live person to ensure he's on track and properly registered, so they'll be no misunderstanding of what's expected come fall. I can see all the tiny steps and changes. Hubs can only smell the pot and see and the friendly hooligans coming in and out of the garage.

Oldest will be home for the summer on Monday. A welcome distraction from our regular chaos, but he will be another voice breaking the peace and quiet I so relish in the afternoon. At least until he finds a job to fill his days.

And despite all this late afternoon white noise, I know the evening is coming. The television and computers clicked into sleep mode, and I can leave the windows open. The bullfrogs will soon be filing the night air with their twangy sounds, punctuated by crickets, and the occasional coyote scoring a fresh meal. Shadows of late night dog walkers spread across the quiet side street outside, setting off a few motion sensors as they stroll by. A restorative peace in darkness, before the blue light starts up again along side the morning sun.