I came back from Baltimore (awash with the girls and Kathy and Josh) and got home at 6 pm or so.
I made sure our cat was still alive and ate dinner--salad and mussels--and put new food out for Lukie and am getting ready to take a shower.
I'm in the house that is my 'home', but I'm not home.
I've lived here since 1989--that's 26, going on 27 years--but being here tonight with a dying cat that I love to death (but he hasn't died yet) and a parakeet named Maggie, who sings and sings, but it's not home.
Bern and Bela are missing.
Bern will be home on the Excella from Baltimore at 1:30 or so tomorrow. And I'll go get Bela from this great kennel in Wallingford at 4.
Then it will be home, this house I've lived in for over a quarter of a century.
"Home" is where those you love and share the house with are.
Tonight I am homeless--though I am warm and safe and nestled in a lovely 1850 house.
This time tomorrow--with Bern and Bela back--I'll be home.
What makes 'home' for you?
Ponder what 'home' is for a while.
It has something to do with who and what is in the house. Of that I'm convinced.
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