Tropical Depression

Suitcase, check.  Last look under the bed, check.   I stood by the airport aquarium and pretended to carry on a conversation with a beautiful blue dory fish until our little Stephie turned the corner at the security gate.  With one last wave she rounded the corner and was off on her first solo flight to Illinois.  Like a flash, our week long Steph-fest was over.  As we drove back to the condo the atmosphere in the car was gloomy.  It was back to just the base five, Paul, Jackie, Dave, me and of course our constant side-kick, Fred, our female golden-doodle.  Big black ominous clouds began to build on the horizon.  Soon the sun was blocked out entirely leaving nothing in its wake but rainy dripping windy gloom.  The silly weather forecasters kept yacking about some tropical depression.  Little did they know that it was just the four of us pouting because we missed our Stephie!

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