My Home

Just got home. I kicked off my shoes, took off my winter coat, played a favorite song, and sat down to read the news. I checked on my favorite country, and saluted the coming International Women’s Day. I courted a cup of steaming hot cocoa, well, maybe some crisp aromatic coffee, readying the mind for the nights work. Getting home means unpacking the day, coming home implies that I am relaxed, that I require no more than the assurance that the day’s tasks were attempted, and that I am back to where I started in the morning.  Its news to me also, that this is life in my twenties, and that is to be applauded, from the Maker of this bountiful earth, I say thanks! My usual response is not to count the things I have, or where I made quantifiable targets. Rather, to say, it is done, and that I am finally home.

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2 thoughts on “My Home

    • Well and dry and home, that is where I was as I wrote that little piece. I am mulling over spring break time – ushering in spring. Thanks for stopping by PS.

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