Coming Home

Perhaps you are interested in learning about my trip to Scotland. I don't know what to tell you. Teri and Amy and I had a wonderful time. I'm not sure what to share -- so I'll just post a painting. This was one of the gifts of this trip for me. I actually painted. The painting here is of Iona Abbey. Nice huh? Not a bad little retreat if it weren't so damn cold (though Amy and I discovered that that's why God created whisky).



And yet, I don't really want to tell you about my trip. I would rather tell you about coming home. I know that Teri and Amy want to know. They come home tomorrow. But, I came home last night after many, many, many hours of different modes of transportation. I arrived home in Maine where a certain boy greeted me. Mind you, I arrived at 1:30 in the morning. He came and picked me up at the bus station (like I said, many modes of transportation). I had sent him a text message after my first flight mentioning that I was already thinking about what was in my bar. He promised he would take care of it. So, what does this boy do?

He shows up at 1:30 in the morning with flowers, sparkling wine and an array of fresh fruit. There was even tiramisu but I couldn't eat it. I was too overwhelmed. So, we sat on my porch and chatted and kissed until 3 or so. He also got his very own toothbrush in my apartment out of the deal. Yeah. It's good to be home. Rumor has it that he's cooking for me tonight. My job is to pick up a movie. I love that that's all I need to worry about. And I will tell you, as I told him, I feel totally and completely spoiled -- but oh it's so good. It's so very good.