We hit the road this morning after I snapped this picture outside our temporary home in Brooklyn--kind of melancholy.
We took a long walk when we got home, pretended we were still on vacation, got frozen yogurt by the library--and I squiggled in my pocket notebook, then jacked around with it on my Galaxy S8. That and a power nap helped me settle in, along with unpacking and throwing in some laundry.
Our last night out was at Peter Luger, where I had the steak dinner of a lifetime and a vodka martini with three olives. Seven days felt like seventy--what a feeling.
The crocuses are out in KC and opening day is just around the corner. It's good to be home, or in the process of getting back home, with a new longing now part of the soul--like when you go to Paris.
