I hadn't been in this land for two weeks, and it felt good to be there. It's not that I mind being home all of the time. Mostly I don't. But as the weeks wear on, and family members remain tantalizingly close, I can't help but visit them.
Interactions were brief and mostly took place outside. There were two long walks, three frisky dogs, a daughter, a brother and — at the end, a box of take-out fried chicken.
Simple pleasures, deeply enjoyed. The Land of Other — it's still out there. And knowing that makes me uncommonly happy.