Home again, home again, jiggety jig

Yes, we're finally home. And while I can say that I am honestly grateful that my two boys had a fantastic vacation in every way, thanks to my family, I can just as honestly say that it was possibly the worst vacation I've ever had in my life. And the weird and wonderful thing that it did, by being so horrific, is that I feel renewed, now, to be at home. A fresh start! A new attitude! I know I sound a bit mad, but it's true -- at least in this moment, this series of moments and hours and hopefully, days.

I needed a vacation; I needed a break and I got neither.

What I did get when I landed in Los Angeles is chills when I felt the air outside the airport, warmth in my body when The Husband beamed at us as he helped us to the car, giggles when our dog Valentine peed on the floor when she saw us. The piles of mail were neatly stacked; The Husband had some good news about The Mistress; Mirtha, the goddess, had cleaned our house to such an extent that it almost sparkled. I blinked in thankfulness at its sweetness -- this home of ours -- I marveled at the lemon tree transplanted from a pot to the garden; I ate steak and macaroni and cheese and drank some kind of sparkly red wine; I watched all three episodes of Friday Night Lights that I'd missed when I was gone, under a blanket, in an un-air-conditioned house.

Oh, my.

And then David, my dear old friend sent me this LINK and I knew it was a SIGN.