leaving Home for home.

Home to
two weeks in a real bed and taking real showers.
two weeks eating flavorful food and drinking wine and --thanks joe-- home-brewed beer.
seeing the people who know me best and the relief that, throughout all of the growth and change in my life, i still fit with the people who matter most.
the wonderful surprise in unexpected supports, people i didn't expect, the ones who strive to understand my life now, if even just by reading or looking at pictures.
seeing my sister graduate high school.
hearing her sing.
music.
air conditioning.
jeans.
cuddling.
my family.
public transportation.
coffee.

phone calls with no delay.
turning a faucet one way for hot, the other for cold.
eggs over easy, hashbrowns, and pre-buttered toast.
glass windows, shades, and ceiling fans.
my cat.

to dancing
and sleeping in
and being hit on at a bar.
to not being proposed to
or having sand in my eyebrows
or wearing long skirts.

home to
dancing in the dark before dinner.
roosters at 6 am.
middle school girls who look up to me.
being goofy, gross, smelly, raunchy, and sweaty with no one to judge.

haako.
prayer call.
baby sheep.
the fields.
washing clothes.
books.
letters.
knitting.
my family.
nescafe.
bean jokes.
taking pictures.

the power of a greeting.
a bucket bath on a windy day.
banaf: sheep meat cooked like pot roast, potatoes, salty-sweet gravy.
the relief of a breeze.
kelby.

to napping
and bargaining
and three caisses of tea.
to not being self conscious
or feeling busy
or not realizing what i have.

to being H/home.