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September 8, 2011
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We’re home.  Home from two wonderful weeks in Europe, full of family, beautiful places, familiar haunts, new sights, an old friend, and one of the most joyful weddings I’ve ever attended.  Because I suspect that vacation stories are generally much more fun for the teller than for the listener, I won’t bore you with mine.  It’s enough to say that even at the end of such an amazing trip, I’m happy to be home.  Within 12 hours of landing in San Francisco at 12:30 a.m., I had a third load of laundry drying on the rack, the fridge full of fresh farmer’s market goodies, the neglected garden seen to, and the dog given many, many snuggles.  In short, I threw myself into homecoming every bit as much as I threw myself into vacation.
It feels good.
(Also? Jet lag’s a killer.)

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