Saturday, April 25, 2009
I'm in the Shenandoah Valley now, on the last leg of my journey, and I am longing to be home.
At the end of the other trip I made, to Wyoming (you can find my blog and paintings from the West at jacobson-arts.com), I was wishing it could be longer.
This time, though, home is pulling at me. I miss my husband, our dogs, Erika and her brood, my siblings and their families, my friends, my life. I miss home cooking, and waking in my own bed. I miss watching our garden poke up, and watching the birds make their nests. I miss going to the gym with Ann and Carden, entering my work into shows, seeing Peter's photographs emerge. I miss cooking, watching the Red Sox, making and drinking my own coffee. I even miss going shopping.
And it's nice. This has been a wonderful trip. It was great to see my father and his wife, to see where I was born, to discover and paint so many new places. But it's a good feeling, to be longing for home, and to know that home is there, sweet and warm and waiting for me.