There's no place like home...

...There's no place like home.

Unlike Dorothy, I used a Rubicon in place of Ruby Slippers. Like Dorothy, it took me home in 2 shakes.

Driving is like pain. You can remember the hurt, but it doesn't hurt to remember.

I pulled in the driveway yesterday afternoon around 4, thoroughly numb. Marilyn heard the Jeep and came to the storm door. Sam, who was visiting, insisted on holding it open for Marilyn to come out. He's quite the gentleman when he wants to be. Unfortunately, Wally decided to take advantage of the open door and go exploring. He made a mad dash for the street just as I was falling out of the Jeep. I said, "Hello, Wally!!", and he threw on the brakes, did a 7G left turn and almost knocked me down, sniffing, licking, and wagging.

I told him he was a good boy and grabbed him by the collar. After we all got into the house, he went through the whole "Golly, I'm glad you're not dead!" routine for about 5 minutes. Last evening, he sat within about 3 feet of me all night.

After Wally got done greeting me, Marilyn and Sam got their chance. Their greetings were a little less dramatic, but greatly appreciated.

After the obligatory inspection of the kitchen (not finished, but looking about 8,000% better), I sat down for a while in something that does not move. Then I got up and started cleaning up after the electrician. There are two holes in walls, and one in a ceiling that I started to patch. I should finish that up tomorrow so the painters (Sandy and Gretchen (Thank you both very much)) can camouflage the construction.

Today, I gave my Jeep and my butt a rest. While Marilyn was giving Missy a rest break by schlepping Violet around the mall in Athens, I re-acquainted my backside with the recliner, and my hands with the washer and dryer. One accumulates a lot of laundry on an 18 day trip.

Speaking of laundry, I've got shirts for most everybody from Ennis, Montana. Come and get them.

It was a great trip, but it's really good to be home.