This would normally be where I recount my lack of success at traveling to Vancouver and enjoying myself. I might say some unflattering things about myself, perhaps, or admit to failing utterly. I might say some rather unflattering things about big-city Vancouver. I might say some angry words about the length of time I had to wait at the train station until I could catch a train home--a day early--or how much my poor stomach had to endure last night.
But I'm not going to do that.
Instead, I'm going to sing the praises of Home.
My parents picked me up from the train station and brought me home to eat chicken noodle soup at 10pm, even though they both had to be somewhere in the morning and needed to sleep.
I fell asleep last night to the sound of the wind...and not much else. The sirens, people shouting, traffic...all gone.
I woke this morning to sunshine and calm. To my own room as I remember it. To the lovely clutter and the lovely music.
Yes, indeed. I'm happy to be Home.