Comforts of Hudson Drive.
Sunday, October 10th, 2004
Home again, we are. Familiar environs, the comforts of knowing exactly where to reach for a certain fork or a certain glass…knowing how hard to swing the back door so it snaps shut.
The back yard has a fine coating of leaves and twigs, a lot of the debris from the storm we didn’t sit through—hurricane Ivan’s remnants. But the house is more or less as clean as we left it, if you ignore the mountain of junk mail that came flying in through the front door. Why is it that charitable organizations we give money to seem to squander it on pounds of direct mail solicitations?
We had great weather, we had good times with some wonderful folks, and all in all I feel ready to move into the fall here, among the familiar, safe at home.
