Category Archives: Leaving the Nest – All About The Chicks

Personal stories about children leaving the Crow(e) nest (home)

“Home” for the Holidays

When you pray that your children get home safely for the holiday

and everyone arrives at the house the afternoon before Thanksgiving

and then your kids go out for the night,

so you go back to the beginning and hope your babies get home safely for Thanksgiving.

#twenties #fifties

Photo credit: Instagram


Marriage Encounter

After 27 years together in this house,  I know my husband’s preferred routines. While other people would say he’s a softy, easy-going  and  down-to-earth, some of his habits are near militant:

– the man likes his steel-cut oatmeal in the morning;

– knives AND forks need to be pointed down in the dishwasher;

– a whirring fan sound from childhood must continue through every single, solitary night;

– the TV remote belongs next to Papa bear’s chair;

– his collection of T-shirts do not go in the dryer;

– a certain pen must stay in the memo holder, even though there’s a huge basket of pens next to it;

– hubby needs ALL his beard grooming products next to the sink; 

– the coffee corner is ritualesque and has a feng shui, so it should not be disrupted; 

– he does not talk until after the first cup “o Joe;

– he turns on the two salt lamps before bed…

…He is also not a softy, only sometimes easy-going, and always earth-shattering.



Photo credit: Trisha Crowe

Magic Carpet Ride

I don’t own a transforming genie, am not a person of great monetary wealth and am not bewitched. However, if I close my eyes in Durham, New Hampshire I am instantly transformed to a palace 80 miles away.

Thank you to the Aladdin of my life for our open air Jeep time. It was a great way to spend a magical afternoon – and take a nap on the way home.

Love, Jasmine


The last time, and I mean the last time, I went flea marketing with my husband was a nightmare. He wanted coffee and I wanted to look at the toys and dolls. I told him I would take a quick look at the collectibles and be right back. 

I suppose I lingered a little too long:

I guess he really did need some java!


Our youngest daughter is finally out of an 8′ x 8′ cell block dorm room after three years. She moved off-campus with her roommate for senior year. Utilities are not included in their rent.

The impact of paying their own additional electric bill was evident on move-in day. All of us were carrying, unpacking or setting up throughout the day and my daughter was also completing all the finishing touches. When I took a break to peek into my daughter’s windowless bedroom and see her progress, I turned on the light.

“It’s still daylight, you don’t need to turn on the lights.” She stated this in a very matter of fact way as she shut the light back off.

I chuckled only to myself, thinking about all the TVs left on with no one in the room, years of radios into the night and endless cell phone charging we tolerated at our house.

Toward the end of the day,  we regrouped to get some dinner. The bathroom is at the end of the hall before you leave the apartment. I stopped in front of the powder room to  turn on the light and told everyone I’d be just a moment.

“How old are you?”, as my daughter reached her arm back in to shut off the light, “you don’t need a light to go to the bathroom. You should know where everything is by now.”

The family laughed and headed toward the entryway as I stepped into the now darkened bathroom.

I closed the door thinking Tarah’s behavior wasn’t so funny this second time.  I stifled my laughter as I realized it could be. I turned the main light back on, along with the shower light and fan and their nightlight.

My passive aggressive, behind closed doors, immature behavior probably cost an additional .00063 cents but –

I didn’t want to be treated like a prisoner –

and I don’t look forward to her full release in one more year.


Raspberry vinaigrette:

2 T olive oil

1 T balsamic vinegar

1 T raspberry jam

1 t mustard

Sprinkle of garlic powder

Sprinkle of white pepper

Dash of salt

Whisk until oil is visibly blended

Salad: Romaine, walnuts, dried cranberry, feta cheese (and chicken, if desired).

Our girls are finally settled in their new apartments as of today. It’s been a lot of hard work and I am excited for them. However, tonight my husband and I got back to some 1×1 cooking. The above vinegraitte recipe is the result of  a sadly quieter house at the same time it is a renewed sense of being together. I was the sous chef but didn’t mind, since I learn the family recipes and food secrets my husband has tucked away in his Cordon Bleu brain.  The last time Richie made this recipe, he whisked it up in moments and kept the ingredient list to himself.  I historically just eat the fruits of his labor! I love working side-by-side in the kitchen again but why am I still writing at this hour? Perhaps some other 1×1 cooking is in order…

Conference call

Despite being the only two people left in our household, my husband and I still tend to have three and four-way conversations. And nobody is on the phone. 

Richie went out to breakfast with his Mom yesterday and when he pulled into the driveway, I let our dog, Otis, know “Daddy’s home!” My husband talked with us for a minute on the deck and then went into the house to get another cushion (it rained the night before, so we bring them in). I heard my husband’s next conversation through the kitchen window screen. He was also confirming to “The Dude” that he was back. 

Other days we might acknowledge that we didn’t hear or understand what was said:

 “What? I didn’t catch that.” 

“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to Kapper.”

Are the additional conversations no different than talking to houseplants? Maybe we’ve always talked to the pets but are only now paying attention to one another? Either way, I wonder if this post will get us more conversations with household visitors – or less?