When I travel, I am usually in the moment & enjoying whatever city in which it happens to be that I'm spending time. New London in January doesn't seem to have the same appeal. Perhaps part of the reason is that instead of enjoying full perdiem and the comforts of some Marriott-branded hotel, I'm staying in Munro Hall on the hallowed grounds of the Coast Guard Academy. Oh, sure, it may look pretty, but being carless on the shores of the Thames isn't my idea of fun.
So, I'm missing the pleasures of home: Andrew's affability, Richard's sillyness, Elliot's laughter, and Jenny's touch. Tonight I spoke with Elliot on the phone. Yes, I spoke. I didn't say it was a conversation; all I got in return was belly giggles and heavy breathing. I told him I was going to come home and zerbert his belly. He laughed and then uttered "Daa." I'd like to think he was saying my name, but as Dianne recently reminded Richard, it's all about phonetics; babies start with what comes naturally; it's all just sounds.
Well, even so, I miss it.