For some reason, that song is stuck in my head, now that I’m back home.
After 32 hours of travel, I am so happy to be back in the land of clean air, clean tap water, clean toothbrushes (you can’t really rinse those suckers out with bottled water), clean clothes (my suitcase still smells like rotten baloney), fairly clean public bathrooms and no noticeable body odor in public places. That’s a lot to be thankful for. Now, if I can get my blobby self off of the couch and away from the refrigerator, I just may involve myself in some physical activity one of these days. Once the ice cream, M&Ms and wine run out, that is.
However, I do I miss my friend, Mr. Treadmill:
Not exactly the Lake Harriet pathway
And Mr. Pool:
Not exactly Lake Harriet
And my students:
We couldn't understand a word of what she said!
And yummy food (yes, that a wet banana leaf, not a plate from Ikea)
What is this, and will it kill me?
But, as Dorothy Gale once said…”There’s no place like home!”
