When I go down Bascom Hill for my “welcome home” espresso (thanks, Ed!) I hope to capture it all and perhaps throw in a rainbow as well. But I am in a hurry, so all you get is the usual.
Why in a hurry? It is undeniable that a week packed full of things that would test the endurance of the hardiest of us eventually gets to you. Jet lagged, with too little sleep for too long a stretch now, I jump into teaching classes right the next day. On top, I have one daughter waiting for movers (tomorrow) and hoping for a good motherly meal (tonight) and moral support (whenever: it’s yours for the asking) through her transition to life back in Madison, and another daughter flitting in and out of town as well.
Then there’s Ed.
My occasional traveling companion is around too for all the pokes he gets from me on Ocean, and I will say this – he is a man who is not riled much. Even in these chaotic times. (Thanks, Ed.)
My eyes are propped open by the dryness that comes from too little sleep, but I can truthfully say that I am very happy to be home.
