relaxedI'm reading an anthology of steampunk stories, with the title of Steampunk, so my dad asked me what steampunk was. Good question. I'm still working that out myself. I did the best I could to explain.
I went to church with my mom on Sunday. That's like visiting extended family. I grew up in the church, in the choir. I came in, and was greeted with hugs and brought right in. They rearranged seats so there was room for me in the loft instead of the congregation. I joined the rehearsal, and they would have been perfectly happy for me to sing with them on the anthem. If it hadn't been so many years since I was singing regularly, I would have; it was one I remember. But without practice, I've lost much of my range and don't trust the rest.
My parents have been cleaning out a little bit at a time, including their books. I'm coming back with a great number. In addition to all my dad's gaming stuff, I've got a bag of SF and a bag of other books. Some of them are references and classics, at least. I'm going to have to do another purge on my own books before long, because I think this is going to put me out of shelf space again.
It's been a good, long visit, but I'm looking forward to going home again. I want my queen bed instead of a twin daybed with a foam mattress. I want to catch up on TV shows I like, instead of an endless stream of football games. (Sorry, Eagles fans, it's my fault they lost. I was paying attention to that game.) I want my lap desk so I can use a mouse instead of this blasted touchpad. I was very happy to come home -- but now I want to go home.
