Home again, home again. In the morning you watch the frost spread across the ground, watch the steam from cars catch the sunlight and swirl. Ordinary things, made more beautiful because you are here to see them. Tomorrow you will be gone again, to airports and airplanes and rental cars. But today there is laundry and a home-cooked meal. An eventing spent decorating the Christmas tree, hanging a mobile from the ceiling of your daughter’s room. Ordinary things. Made more beautiful because you love them.
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