Monday, December 28, 2009


We got home late last night. Late. But, for the first time in a long time, I'm home. For a week. Just over a week. A week and 6 hours.

And now, I'd like to list all the reasons I love being home. With the understanding that my in-laws are wonderful people and their home is basically a spa. And my friends who put me up are wonderful people and their homes are gorgeous. And the hotel in London is wonderful and 5-star. But - home:

At home, you don't need to be fully dressed when you leave the bathroom, which means you don't have to put on jeans over damp legs.

At home, when you are tired of the red sweater for 3 days, there is a blue one in the closet. When you're away, you're stuck with what you've packed.

At home, your facial cleanser doesn't explode in the tiny bag, leaving you with bar soap for a week and a face full of pimples.

At home, there are always more Q-tips. 

At home, you can come and go as you please - and have the means to do so.

At home, you can do all those nagging tasks that build up when you're away. Like dry cleaning. And buying postage. And scanning documents.

At home, you can watch horrible horrible things on the television and not explain why you like them. 

At home, you never really have to wear supporting undergarments if you don't want to.

At home, all the backup items are available - the ones you'd never carry around on a trip. Like nail polish remover. And extra packets of kleenex. And snow boots.

At home, you can leave your hair to frizz out all day, and not worry about anyone seeing you except the neighbor. Even though you look like the bride of frankenstein.

At home, all your treats are available. Not food treats - those are plentiful on the road. At home, you keep the non-food treats that bring you joy - like the new kitchen toy you're dying to try out. Or the recipes you want to organize into your book while watching a movie. Or the candle that smells heavenly. 

It's good to be home.

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