It's Actually Kind of Quiet Out Here...

Our relaxing summers out here on the farm are usually anything but relaxing; but of course I wouldn't have it any other way.

Our house is always packed to the brim, and since we don't yet have sixteen children, we make sure to fill this empty space with animals.  Sibling is in and out, usually with a ragtag collection trailing him.  But it's been slowly quieting down, and the departure of Other Half started a tailspin of abandonment.

Old Man Band has been having marital problems lately, so their appearances have been sparse.  And then Other Half left.  Quickly followed by the departure of The Band.

In preparation for an EP recording in Chicago, these big strong men have had Band Camp.  Most likely, not the Band Camp you're picturing.

They moved in last Sunday, filling the basement with the awful reek of twenty-three year old boys in the morning.  Instead of our usual six cars strewn about, we now have nine cars rotting in various locations.  Graciously, they did go grocery shopping, leaving me with not an inch of spare fridge space.  You can track their progress starting with the pile of sandals in the middle of the doorway and then finding the heat of an open window in the crisp air conditioning; like arrows pointing you to the Shed.  Following proper protocol, The Band makes sure they never practice during normal business hours, and since the Noise Ban has been lifted, they try not to practice during any of what could be considered "normal hours".  During my mid-morning laundry run I'm regaled with heroic tales of epic bluegrass jams lit by the three am moon.  Never mind the fact that they're all awake and around at one in the afternoon, they're too busy sunbathing in the yard, or jogging topless for all the farmers to gawk, or creating culinary masterpieces, to be practicing.

They meet their mothers for dinner and go out for drinks with their girlfriends and make sure to turn on their amps by ten at night.

Thank goodness we barely have neighbors to notice. 

But, they're serious about Band Camp.  And I have to admit that they do sound incredible after a dedicated and intense ten night stint of awesome rock. 

And they've certainly earned their name.

Their myspace page is littered with pictures taken out here, and after making their presence known for a few days, they started to blend in and actually make themselves useful- never mind that when you go to the Shed to ask for their help they're sweating and rocking out in boxers.  All the same, who was there when we needed to move the unreasonably heavy chicken coop?  The Big Strong Men.  Who can help you start the mower when it's giving you hell?  Big Strong Men.  Who can help you stretch king sized sheets across the line, call the Hounds in from the hunt, and then move that chicken coop again because The Voice has deemed it was wrong the first time?  You got it. 

And now everyone's gone and I'm not sure how I feel about it.  Although I know he's basking in the silence, I've been doing all I can to make sure that The Voice doesn't notice that it's just me left.  Sure, it was liberating to cut the fields in my swimsuit, but I had no background music.  There's no one to mock The Muppet with me and my poor Sweet Monster Head is almost out of her mind with worry.

Bottom line is that it's actually kind of quiet out here.  Sure I'm out here in the country for that blessed peace and quiet, but I'm ready for the mayhem to resume.

Let's hope they all return soon, before I completely lose it and instead of simply talking to my Collection, I wait around for it to respond...