Our flight to San Francisco was as uneventful as the flight to Hawaii. Wallie, who was feeling a little warm to the touch and possibly slightly feverish, slept almost the whole way home. Bunny watched a couple of movies and I did a little work writing up our trip as a travel article.
When we landed, J. said, "Was the flight over this easy?"
"Yep," I responded.
"Well, shoot. We're flying everywhere now!"
Despite having two more bags than we started with, we packed everything, including ourselves into our teensy car and made it home just ahead of the pizza guy whom we called from the freeway.
When we pulled up to the house our driveway was covered with newspapers since I forgot to have the deliveries stopped while J. was gone. The hydrangea on the front porch was dead, a sure sign of a lifeless house, but still, no one robbed the place. Amazing.
What's that smell? J. didn't change the bedding or clean out the coffee pot (including the coffee grounds in the filter), and left wet laundry in the washer for a week. But despite the house smelling like mold and stank, it was, at least, clean.
I went from room to room like a little kid looking at and touching everything. The girls' rooms were just as we left them—beds made, stuffed animals keeping watch—and Bunny immediately went to check on all her horses in their stable.
The girls were scrub-a-dubbed in the tub, then they had a slice of pizza and went to sleep in their own beds for the first time in a month. I can tell that they are happy to be home.
Just now I swept up a little sand that fell out of our suitcase and got a little wistful, but I can't wait to putter in the yard tomorrow and take a long walk through our neighborhood.
Peaceful, gecko-free house, o how I miseed you!