Home Again

The Day Before

Saturday was by far the most beautiful day of the week, I could only sit on the beach and inhale my surroundings. I love the beach, well private beaches anyway. An elderly lady walked up to me and whispered something in my ear. I’m like, ‘me no speaka english’. I thought she was trying to convey some type of AARP gang message and I was not accepting. Finally, she pointed to my hat that has a college team logo on it and then to her t-shirt which I assume was the same team. After I understood what she was saying, I proudly said, “Oh this hat? I don’t know who the team is, but it cost me 5 dollars.” I was more proud of what I paid for it than the comradarie we shared.

Fast forward to the 11th hour, who would have thought that the hottest commodity would have been a roll of toilet tissue. Either we had that great of a time or it really was time to go. Sure we could have drove into town to get more, but that’s just something you have to have on hand, or in your hand, at the time of need. So we packed up, supplies were dwindling.

My final hours were spent in my favorite room in the house, the den. I turned on the fire place and curled up on the couch and watched Suze Orman. I really did not want to leave.

Home Again

However, there’s always a certain excitement about going home to the things I miss. People, pets, my bed, my wonderful bed and familiarity. Sure, I go through a cultural shock once we get off the parkway. My first image was of a man standing on the street corner eating, what I’m assuming to be, his dinner out of a styrofome box. I adjusted my eyes to a squint and watched him as he did his finger-licking-good sway.

I got home and scanned my surroundings. Okay, the house didn’t burn down or up, that’s good. I look up and down my block at my unknown but familiar neighbors nd said: It’s nice to be home, again.