After a week in some beautiful, restful country, away from cell service and computers, flung far over the Rockies --visuals later-- we returned home to... HOME.
My gosh, it's always so good to be home. And it's not just because flying with toddlers is tough, because it is. But, it's mostly because I love where we live, our particular home--our bed. Sigh. I know there are lots of people out there who dread returning home, either to their towns or their home. We are not those people. Travel is wonderful, for lots of reasons, but especially because it makes you return with love in your heart for where you belong. You should have seen Jacky re-discovering his room/bed/toys/books/kitty/garden, with huge smiles and squeals of wonderment.
And me, I stepped outside to take stock of what transpired in the garden, under the care of drip irrigation and nothing else. Climbing squashes scrambled up, tomatoes ripened, artichokes beefed up and sunflowers opened their bright yellow faces.
And, travel makes you hungry, so I went to work with the garden shears: