There's No Place Like Home

We’d been away quite a bit this summer, thanks to the generosity of friends with vacation homes and our own (slightly flagging) spirit of adventure.

There were weeks and weekends of no bread-like products (for gluten-intolerant me), no home delivered newspapers and in some cases, no cell-phone reception. Of course, we were more than compensated for all that by interesting people, new learning, and beautiful settings.

However, our own bed, our early morning newspapers, not having to ask if food is gluten-free and the return to our normal (for us) routine are comforting.

As travel dates approach, there’s always a part of me that wishes we were home safe after a great trip. Once we get into the rhythm of being away, I don’t think about that at all. But when we come home and my gluten-free bagel and my newspaper are on my breakfast table, I am relieved.

And grateful.


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Still the Lucky Few

Aaaaah, home! There's no place like it. I've always questioned the wisdom of working our whole lives to provide ourselves with a comfortable home, then leaving it to wander somewhere else! But then, I'm a homebody—I've traveled the world enough to realize that here, right here, is best!

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