We pulled into the driveway almost midnight last night after the haul home from the not-so-far north. Doc and I finished listening to Voyage of the Dawn Treader by CS Lewis on audio (unabridged, thank you) as we merged onto Route 78.

All six of us, up the front steps, past the black dog with the whipping tail. Lights on, dump a duffel bag on the kitchen floor. Gently place Dell out of the foot family traffic against the wall.

Ah, home.

But I’m not quite at peace yet.

Down the hall, make a right and a few short steps I’m really home. My bedroom. The queen-sized bed with the familiar pillows, the wedding gift down comforter and my desk under the windows. There really is no place like your own bed for reading, writing, (day) dreaming, and coffee drinking. I’ve missed it.

Welcome home, me.