One of the nicest things about travelling is that eventually it comes to an end. Don’t get me wrong – I lived an itinerant childhood and I do very much like to travel, but there is nothing quite like the sense of relief and comfort I receive when I step through the front door. The littlest one is too young to really know where I go off to, but he certainly asks momma where I am, and I know that he feels my absence – that is when I feel most guilty about my work. The oldest is still just young enough that he won’t mind a snuggle after dinner, reading (hopefully) ‘Treasure Island’.
However, by this time tomorrow I shall be home, surrounded by family, in a warm house a warm bed and a reminder by SWMBO that the next morning, I have the fierce creatures all to myself while she catches up on some much needed rest.
It is the least I can do.