home again

The day after returning from a long trip, all I ever want to do is sit like a bump on a log, maybe read a novel, with all my bags still packed and my fridge still empty. Maybe it's travel fatigue; maybe it's a desire to preserve that liminal space before jumping back into normal life; maybe I'm just exceedingly lazy. But it's my consistent experience after travel, warring with just a touch of drive to whirlwind around until everything is unpacked and tidy again.

But in our three weeks away, M learned to pull up on everything, which means piles of travel gear around the house are an invitation to disastrous exploration. And she's not as content with leftover chips for lunch as I am (or maybe she would be--but she shouldn't be). So: we are doing the laundry, emptying the suitcase, filling the fridge.