It's the time of year in Seychelles all tourists love ... the season between seasons that comes in October and goes in late November when the wind can't decide between blowing the Southeast or the Northwest Monsoons. The Indian Ocean is one huge swimming pool with barely a ripple to its surface, the sun is shining and the humidity and temperature are not up in the quadruple digits ... okay, maybe that's a tiny exaggeration ... that the other season between seasons brings in April and May.

It's so lovely that Mark did something so rare that people who know him well were shocked: he took the day off to go fishing.

Now, if Mark was writing this blog you'd get a good thousand words about fish, fishing, bait, line, hooks, currents, boat fuel mixture, more fish, big fish, little fish, fish who climb on rocks, blah, blah, blah, fish, blah, fish, blah.

He's not, and oh! how lucky you are. Thankfully, the entire tirade faded from my mind about a minute before he finished talking, so you won't get any version of it from me other than: he caught some fish. Twenty? Thirty? Enough to fill the freezer. Blah, blah, blah.

So, if I'm so underwhelmed, why am I writing about this?

I'm trying to establish a context for what came next.

After the fishing, I met Mark at the beach so we could have a swim and a little together time, and when I arrived the first news he imparted was that T and his mom were there.

T, if you recall, was our foster son for a couple of years, and to this day, four years after having him go back to his mom, my heart does a confusing dance of pain and joy every time I see him.

He and his mom both greeted me warmly, as always, and played a bit with Sam and Cj.

T is eight now, so not all that thrilled with babies and four-year-olds, especially when there are same-aged buddies around, as there were yesterday, but he does interact a bit, and I know how interested he is in my kids. Sam treats T like a hero, as a little one tends to do with someone a sophisticated and mature eight, and is always happy to see him.

T's mom and I talked for a while. She proudly mentioned how his school situation is improving (he has a full time one-on-one teaching assistant), his mastering of language skills and so on. The fact that he is doing well says a lot about how their life has settled down, and I understand that she wants me to know that she's doing a good job with him. I am very happy to applaud every one of her efforts.

Just before they left, T came to give me a kiss good-bye.

"I won't give you a big wet one, " he said, as he pecked me on the cheek.

"Like heck you won't," I said, grabbing him, then smooching all over his darling face, which was really fun and nice AND got me soaked and covered in sand.

"See?" he said through a huge smile. "I warned you!"

Since this is Love Thursday, it's okay for me to be sappy ...

The photo is one I was so hoping I'd get someday ... Sam and T together in my house a couple of years ago. He hasn't been home with us since then, but I hope it happens again someday.