Last night I arrived home and was about as happy as you can be about it. I was home. In my house. Soon to be reunited with my Hubby. My hubby who I love and adore and enjoy being around lots. With a fridge {and freezer and pantry and bench top} full of good, wholesome food! $400 worth apparently because my Hubby can’t be trusted to grocery shop without spending 2 months worth of food money in one go. Sigh. Wait. Where was I.

Oh yeah, happy to be home. 

Not so much now surprisingly, having just remembered that. 

Ok, I’m pretty much happy about it. 

Anyway. where was I. 

Oh yeah, happy to be home. 

Soon I had unpacked {pretty much}, run a load or two of washing, washed my car and plugged in the laptop ready to write. I had come up with over 200 post ideas during my flight home. Do you have ANY idea how many posts that is..! how useful it is to know that I can look at that list and have post ideas for over 100 days of two posts a day posting..!? Well. It’s wonderful. There’s something quiet free about it. It’s a nice place to be. No missing voice for me. Apparently lately, mine has been found.

After an hour or two of writing and catching up on SOME of the emails I had received while I was away, Hubby was home. He gave me a kiss, put down his stuff, turned on the air con and started making me dinner. Naaaaaw. I love that dude. He asked about the conference and cooked up a storm. He even used olives which he hates and I love. I’m pretty darn sure he missed me too. Then he made me a Twinnings tea and we watched some tv.

I love coming home. There truly is, no place like home.