I love my friends, I love the cottage, and I love the cool breezes blowing in off the lake. There's magic in stepping out of life for a while. But there's magic in coming home again as well, and it's good to be back in my own house, showering with really, really good water pressure, and just generally getting things done. I've already caught up with email, know what I have to do in the morning, watched a little Doctor Who, and I'm on the verge of going on a walk around the neighborhood with Christie, now that the temperature is becoming reasonable again. Oh, and I've had a beer. Vacation or no, I don't want to shock the body with sudden changes like, um, not having a beer.
Apart from the news that life is good and that turning off the news for a week does wonders for the psyche, the only real insight I can convey from the past week is this tiny bit of profundity: If you ever have the chance to watch fireworks with a three year old, don't pass it up. It's one of the seven wonders of the emotional world.