Late Monday night, as I stepped out of the cab that brought us home from the airport, I was so very happy. Hello Portland, hello street, hello house!
I lugged my heavy suitcase (though not as heavy as Gregory’s :) ) up the front steps and openened the door to be greeted by little Paris peeking out of the shadows. Milo was meowing up a storm by the back door and was promptly let in. The house was stuffy, so I opened the windows to bring in the air that is home. It felt so good, for as much as I enjoy traveling, I enjoy coming home even more.
I love rummaging through the giant pile of mail left on the dining room table, wandering around admiring the rooms we’ve created together, sitting quietly on the sofa and listening to the house creak, and best of all, cuddling up with my sweet hubby in our bed, before drifting off to sleep.
Dorothy, there really is no place like home…
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