People frequently say, upon returning from vacation: "it was good to go, but it's nice to be home."
I don't feel that way.
I think it has very much to do with the fact that we came home to a H-O-T, (hot enough to grow Hydroponic Tomatoes,) house, which we are still unable to cool due to the sweat-promoting fact that our HVAC unit is currently...oh...shall we say, under the weather?
And the equally (well, almost equally,) unfortunate fact that we came home to a fridge-full of wiffy and furry foes formerly known as strawberries, green beans, and a leftover serving of burrito fixin's that someone (*a-hem!*) forgot to dispose of before he joined us a few days into our trip, which caused a stench foul enough to infiltrate all contents of the fridge and freezer, rendering our much-desired ice-cube supply inedible for its hint of pungent garlic flavor. We also came home to a nearly-empty milk carton that the same someone left on the counter in our ninety degree kitchen, which morphed into a curdled petri dish of dairy, dairy disgusting cultures during its nine day incubation period. AND one bloated, well-ripened, beefsteak tomato, (whose skin was apparently not up to the task of withstanding the swelling pressure from within,) that bled to death on our kitchen table.
Add to all that the fact that we made our debut at a most ungodly hour of the morning and you might understand why I can offer nothing but tears at the "We're Home Table." Don't worry; they mingle seamlessly with the remains of the explosive tomato.
It was a beastly homecoming, folks.
But the whole reason for our trip was to hug and cry and smile about another, much happier, homecoming--my brother R's return from his two year LDS mission to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with the y'all-slingin' souls of West Texas. And that...(*insert tender sigh,*) that homecoming couldn't have been sweeter if we drizzled powdered sugar glaze over it.
(There is a Spotlight post in the works to showcase the many dashing details of a once punk/LittleBrother/hellion who has morphed into a sterling example of fine young manhood.)
In the meantime, I am trying to remind myself, that although I desperately miss moments like this:
and would really like to just turn around and go back...
are the fixed points around which my world revolves...
And they don't live in the northwest.
Looking for my happy face in the south...