Thoughts on being back home.

People often ask us: How does it feel to be back?

When we hear that, Nicole and I kind of look at each other, searching for the most polite and truthful way to answer the question.

"It's kind of boring," we say.

We've checked the mail, paid our various bills and look forward to going back to our respective jobs.

Nicole puts the brush to another canvas, and Emma sets her eyes on another bird.

For me, the itch is out of my system.

I went through my stack of mail and pulled out some back issues of National Geographic Traveler, Backpacker, and Adventure Cycling. I no longer feel the need to get up and go far, far away. It's a relaxing feeling.

Nicole feels inspired. She did two pastels in about two minutes. Unsatisfied with landscapes, which she feels constrains here imagination, she is already working on a much larger piece befitting her surrealist style.

Now she says all she needs to get inspired is go on a month-long bike tour.

Our cats are very, very happy. Alison had been such a fantastic sitter, so much so that Emerson lost about a pound of weight. She offered her theory as to our gargantuan cat's new fitness routine: "Wickett [Alison's kitten] whipped him in to shape!"

That may be, but after a month of unfamiliar territory, a sudden departure from his masters, and a strange kitten, he didn't put up much a fight to get in his cat carrier. Instead he just gave Nicole a glaring look of disapproval for abandoning him before leaping into his carrier.

Emma tried to hide in the basement, unsure of where we would take her next. After about a day of being back, they had gotten over life at Alison's and her "torturous"(ly adorable!) kitten. They are happy to be home.

The warrior-cat sits atop his perch on the living room bookshelf.

And even though "home" for me has changed several times over the years (I've had about eight different mailing addresses since 2006) it's brought a renewed appreciation for what home is. I don't have to worry about reaching any "next" destination for quite some time. Washing dishes is much, much easier.  Heck, I even have a refrigerator! I can buy milk again!

And not just any milk, Connecticut farm fresh milk. The unpronounceable Re-combinated Bovine Growth Hormone (RCBGH) is a nightmare for taste. Thankfully, Connecticut dairy farmers banded together and have distributed milk under the name Farmer's Cow. Call me crazy, but I prefer not to have my milk trucked across the country. State residents can find it at most any supermarket.

They also gave Connecticut Residents a real treat: Farmer's Cow Ice Cream! And, not to sound overly moralizing, they also have Connecticut Eggs as well.

So this is home, and I'll admit, Connecticut cider has a stronger taste--a "kick" if you will-than North Carolina cider.

So it is good to be back home. And another treat: The town of Manchester has cleared in order to pave an addition to the Charter Oak Greenway!

So is it really that boring? I think it's more welcoming and relieving than we we first got back.

 Of course, the Charter Oak Greenway is part of the larger East Coast Greenway, which always begs the question of a sequel . . .