Upon pulling into the driveway I was both relieved and sad, and both for the same reason; we were home. The drive was quiet, thanks in part to the boys sleeping for a couple hours. They seemed perfectly content entertaining themselves without the aid of portable video players and personal gaming devices, instead opting to simply look out the window and observe or color in their activity binders I made them. However, they were glad to be home, even if it meant taking a bath and going to bed.
I must admit that I too am glad to be home, but miss our Lucy and can’t wait to see her when I go into work this morning. As a dog owner, there is something inherently weird about coming home and not being greeted by her and knocking us over as we try desperately to simply walk through the doorway without toppling over or tripping as she tries to weave her way between our legs, which, as a Great Dane, seems like it should be complicated but she manages to do so anyway. The cats were not a good substitute. They just looked at us and ran to their food bowl, which was still quite full.
The worst part about being back home is that our ant problem has gotten pretty bad, so it looks like I’ll need to start making some ant killer. Once I figure out where they are coming from, it will just be a matter of mixing the sugar, molasses and yeast together. Of course, I’ll need to buy some molasses since I think we’re out from my last carrot cake order. Alas, sometimes being back home isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, especially as a renter in somebody else’s house.