The grandson is moving out

In June of last year, our oldest grandchild came to stay with us temporarily. He was down on his luck, and I told him he could stay here until he got back on his feet. I gave him a deadline: Be out by the end of July.

He helped Cliff put hay in the barn. He did his own laundry and gave me a token amount of money to help with expenses.



Since I'm a coward when it comes to breaking horses, he was the first person to actually ride Libby, my filly.


He was pretty rough on his pickup sometimes...

... which is why he made use of Cliff's shop so often.

Well, he turned out not to be much of a problem to me, and he wasn't even around all that much. Besides, his job started going sour and they cut his hours so that he wasn't bringing in much money to stash away for hard times. I told him to stay as long as he needed to.

He got a second job in November, and I saw him like this a lot.

He's now working at a new job that pays well and gives him lots of overtime (probably more than he wants). He and a buddy have made a security deposit on a town house. At long last he's moving out.

I'm going to miss that boy.