I’m starting to feel home. Writing, submitting, worrying about the general state of the world. These things, plus folding towels, they’re all right.
Homebody me. A hobbit in slippers. Ever reluctant to leave hearth and hovel, so grateful to return. Yet, the memory of the road. It goes ever on and on. Once inside you, it never quite departs, and someday I know I will again, too.
OOoh–the open road. Just as tempting as wheels of creamy yellow cheese…
Yes, opens up the senses and the brain cells, huh?