Kevan came home this weekend. When he moved to High Point, I said that it was like 5 people moved out of our house, because Kevan always has people around him. When he returned, so did the "posse." Zach and Abbie came from Kentucky for a visit, Danny and Alex came from Boone, Shea and Jossie just followed Kevan from High Point, so we had five extra cars in our lawn, and live music playing in Kevan's room, right next to mine. That's another thing... when Kevan comes home, there's a lot more music. He and Alex picked me up from work on Friday, and the ride home was the classic Kevan experience - windows rolled down, music loud, no one talking, just bobbing their heads to the beat. So awesome. There's really nothing to say when the music is that good. Sunday afternoon, Abbie and I sat quietly coloring in Kevan's room, while the boys wrote and recorded a whole superhero theme song in 45 minutes. The energy was intense... the brilliant genius minds at work. And I realize how much of an older sister I am, when I find that I have to be the responsible one, to talk common sense and reason into the insanity.

Kevan's gone back to High Point again. The lawn is empty, the poor grass happy to have a chance to survive. The house is quiet, and I actually have time to read and write and think again. Life is "back to normal," but it's missing some magic... magic that a certain small red-head brings with him when he comes in... like Peter Pan. And I feel like Wendy... growing up against my will, enchanted by those who can escape it. I'm glad he hasn't "grown up," and that adventure is in his wake... and that the "lost boys" with shaggy hair and gottees and instruments and silly philosophies still come when he's around.