Tuesday, July 05, 2011


Home is where you live. It's what you know.

It's where you come back to and what you are inside when you get there.

You don't need a dictionary for it.

You don't need a travel book.

You don't have to look up words to find out what you want to say.

Home is who you are and no matter the treasure left behind, you're glad to be back.


At 8:56 PM , Blogger sandman1 said...

Welcome home! I don't think I've been away as long as you were since I was in college, and I've accumulated a lot of baggage since then (once, all my stuff fit in the car...). Still jealous you did it, though!

At 7:21 AM , Blogger Becky Willis Motew said...

Thanks, sm! I'm still getting used to it. I still dream that I am there.

At 10:06 AM , Blogger Maureen Power said...

How poetic. I agree on all points.

At 11:04 PM , Blogger sandman1 said...

Was thinking of your trip today while watching the final stage of the Tour de France in Paris, down the Champs Élysées. I got into following the race this year, stumbling across the coverage when it was in Normady shortly after you were. It's a long race (3+ weeks!), and really does go all over France, but you were there longer!

At 11:47 AM , Blogger Becky Willis Motew said...

I wasn't on a bike, though. Bastille Day also looked pretty interesting with the jet flyovers. I miss it!


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