My husband's leave is coming to an end; next week he'll be back to work. This is the longest stretch of time he's ever taken off, and yet it's felt so short. Part of me feels regretful... maybe we should have stayed put more, tried to do less, just hung out with less distraction.
Things march on, vacation time can't last forever. We have swimming lessons to get to and a porch to work on and books to read and meals to make and so on. But man, do I like having him home.