So I'm sitting here at my trusty Dell, totally exhausted from a very busy week at our annual literacy conference. I'm trying to conjure up something really profound or inspiring or funny or even a little interesting to add to my blog log for my NabloWrimo promise of writing something every day for the month of October. Sometimes it just doesn't come. Sometimes I'm just plum wordless. I think Pete Seeger sang a song that has the words, "My get up and go, got up and went."
Of course, it could be that I'm not as young as I used to be and I simply can't boogie as long and as hard as I used to.
But I'm not ready to admit that yet. Nope...not ready.
It could be that those comfortable beds advertised in the better hotels are still, no matter what, definitely not the bed I have slept in for years while my husband softly snores or sometimes loudly snores beside me. I never sleep well when I'm away from home except if I'm at the beach listening to waves crash on the shore. I do love that sound.
It was good to get home. I miss this old rambling wreck of a house when I'm away. It's been my home for over 40 years. My babies grew up here. They ran in the pastures and played on the hay bales and explored the woods. It's really true that home is where the heart is, and my heart is here in Northwest Georgia on what was once a 800 acre farm. Only around 50 acres are left, but it's family acres and that's what makes it special.
I bid all a resounding good night. My big old bed with it's wonderfully soft mattress awaits.
Of course, it could be that I'm not as young as I used to be and I simply can't boogie as long and as hard as I used to.
But I'm not ready to admit that yet. Nope...not ready.
It could be that those comfortable beds advertised in the better hotels are still, no matter what, definitely not the bed I have slept in for years while my husband softly snores or sometimes loudly snores beside me. I never sleep well when I'm away from home except if I'm at the beach listening to waves crash on the shore. I do love that sound.
It was good to get home. I miss this old rambling wreck of a house when I'm away. It's been my home for over 40 years. My babies grew up here. They ran in the pastures and played on the hay bales and explored the woods. It's really true that home is where the heart is, and my heart is here in Northwest Georgia on what was once a 800 acre farm. Only around 50 acres are left, but it's family acres and that's what makes it special.
I bid all a resounding good night. My big old bed with it's wonderfully soft mattress awaits.
2 comments:
There's no place like home...There's no place like home...
Nothing makes you appreciate home more than spending some time away from it.
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