With the plane about to take off and return my In-Laws from whence they came, the Redhead and I are now done with visitors and travels until baby time. That’s it, folks. No more road trips or outdoor adventures until our household numbers 3.

Sure, we’ll go to the store, or perhaps a park, but nobody will be coming here and nobody will be getting out. We’re soon to enter “The Vacuum,” that lock down state of existence where our world reflects around trying to sleep, trying to stay calm, and trying to wrap our brains around the changes due to arrive on Christmas Day (or thereabouts). The Redhead will soon be home from work, experiencing an even stricter form of sequestration than me. I at least will get to escape to a desk for 12 to 14 hours a day. (Lucky me!)

So goes the final trimester of procreation. We’ll welcome visitors in the new year after the guest of honor arrives. Until then, it’s me and her, and her.

Saddle up.