Finally Home

As much as I hate - really, really HATE The Wizard of Oz, I DO wish I had a pair of sparkly red shoes everyone was fighting over, because then I could have taken Doug by the hand, clicked my heels three times and said "there's no place like home, there's no place like home" and POOF, we would have been there (crap, have I just violated some copyright law? Do I have to pay some kind of royalty now?).

Into the house -- we both pause and look around; tired and a tad shell shocked. I must say, I am so bloody glad I cleaned the house before we left. It's sparkly clean, nice and cool and we're home - homehomehomehomehome. We drop our bags and walk around - everything is just fine. Oh, wait - what's that box? A package from Diane?!?! We open it up and I wish she were here - what a sweetie! Boxes and Boxes of Keebler Onion Toasted crackers (they don't sell them here), a wonderful votive candle holder that looks like coral and a bunch of environmental and diving magazines. Girl, you ROCK! PHOEBE!!!!

Out the door we go and hand in hand we walk to Jan's house. As we ring the doorbell we hear the dogs barking. Jan calls "come on in" and there they are - Phoebe and Lucky. 88 pounds of lumbering, loving beast knocks into me -- Phoebe, our girl and 5 pounds of beige fluff snuggles under Phoebe and now we're petting both squirming masses of doggy love. There's something about the feeling of warm fur, warm, living, loving fur under your hand - something elemental and calming - NOW we're truly home. God bless her soul -- Jan made chicken soup for us. After chatting for a while we fill our arms with dog bowls and dog treats and doggie toys, we juggle leashes and soup and head back home.

I admit it -- we were hungry and when we opened that pot of soup the glorious scents of carrots and chicken, onion and herbs wafted into our sinus cavities -- salivary glands respond and we pulled out spoons and jumped on that soup like Monkeys on a tray of cupcakes. Oh joy, oh bliss - home made soup. What a lovely kindness. What a truly thoughtful gesture. Oh Jan - thank you so much!

Well, I need to go to the market -- hop into my little Mustang ragtop, turn the key and - nothing. Do you hear me? Abso-freakin'-lutely NOTHING. It's dead. Back into the house, Doug hands me his keys and goes to charge the battery on my car. I drive down to WinnDixie and walk into the store. Grab a cart and head into the produce section. I stop and stare, it's wonderful - all the fruits and vegetables - the deli counter beckons - the bakery calls. I spend far too much time and money but bring home comfort foods for Doug -- potato bread and doughnuts. Chocolate milk and lunch meat. Mustard Potato Salad and fresh lettuce.

Back home - pop open a bottle of wine, pour a monster glass (with ice - I know, you're shudding in horror at iced wine - but it IS Florida) and go across the street to see Pat - my second Mom - one of my sounding boards and one of my best friends in the whole wide world. Oh, Pat -- I've missed you so much. Sometimes you don't realize just how much you rely on someone, how often you see and speak to them and yes, how you often take their presence for granted until you can't reach them. I needed to see Pat.

After a lovely reunion I head back home and Doug looks p*a*l*e. His jaw hurts - he ate too much and chewed too much. It's about 8:30 and he's off to bed - our big, soft, comfy bed.

I start to putter. I'm exausted and my body aches but I'm puttering. The grandfather clock my dad gave my mom for their 25th Christmas has run down. That means getting it up and running - which entails pulling the weights then turning the hands in 15 minute increments and letting it chime until you get to the right time. It takes a while. More puttering. Finally I hit the bed around midnight.