(Stereophonics - Maybe Tomorrow)
We are home, since yesterday. There has been a lot of washing. There has been the wonderful sleep that only comes from your own bed. There has been an evening with my parents and my grandad, a lovely home-cooked meal thanks to my mum, and sharing our (excessive) photos. There has been much laughter, recalling our trip, Millie's antics, lots of lovely memories.
There has been much relief that I chose to take an extra day off work, it has helped the holiday feeling last that little longer. There has been a lunch out today, pizza and pasta and wandering round the shops.
Tomorrow there will be work, for me at least, The Husband has a few more days off, lucky him, and I am trying not to feel despondent. There will be the weekend soon enough, there will be more holidays. There will be baking tonight, I have been moping around this afternoon, moody at the thought of our precious time together coming to an end, flicking through recipe books and discarding them all, but I will bake.
It has been a lovely holiday, the scenery, the space, the time in quiet companionship travelling side by side, The Husband driving, me navigating, the dog dozing on my lap, trying to make sure her nose was touching The Husband's arm too, never wanting to be too far from either of us. It has been a lovely way to mark three years of marriage, being silly, holding hands, facing (minor) adversity (car breakdowns, poorly dog, wind battered tent - all easily rectified in the end), exploring the world together. And then, of course coming home, to washing, and unpacking, but to the familiar, our little space, with family near by, and everyday life. It is a beautiful thing to realise that returning to normality brings just as much joy as escaping on an adventure, it is something to be grateful for, a life loved.