Sweet day...

So, I flew away, southward and home...

This sign always gives me a little thrill. It means I am almost there.

There where my "hideously unattractive" nieces are. There where the house I grew up in still welcomes me, where friends and family gather. Sister Donna and I visited the cemetary as the sun was setting to pay our respects to our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and others.

Back at the house we immersed ourselves in frosting and sugar and candy and the conversation flowed like syrup.

All the while sister Deb cooked for us, a feast of steak, mashed sweet potatoes, roasted vegetables and the most amazing salad made from baby spinach, fresh berries and candied pecans. The house was warm and cozy and welcoming and I was so happy to be there.

Every corner of my sisters home was filled with loveliness and light. We had such a sweet visit. I brought home a sticky ginger bread house and a pocket full of memories.

Going home...

It was a beautiful day. At work I kept on thinking about going home. I planned to take care of all the animals, then sit quietly in the back yard. I planned to cook a simple summer supper of steak and veggies on the grill and share a quiet evening with my best friend (who is, coincidentally, my husband.)

I took my camera with me when I went. I took pictures of the dogs playing, of dinner cooking. I lit a fire in the fire pit and took pictures of the flames lapping the dry pine. I took pictures of the rabbit and the chickens and the lambs. And I took pictures of birds on the feeders, in the air, and zooming into the bird house.

And I pondered the universal appeal of going home. The place of ease and rest and security and comfort. I am so grateful to have a home to go to.