adventures through the looking glass

The next two weeks I am home. Mostly. Enough to call it home for the holidays. Things have been put away, Christmas music was playing in my room almost all day. And Monday, there is no need to drive anywhere.

This evening I curled up in a chair with my little sister by the fireplace, and read some poetry out of a newly acquired anthology of British literature. "You're finding a lot of adventures in there," was her response to my excitement over the authors found in there (Byron, Tennyson, Hopkins, Wordsworth, to name a few).

Not coming home for a weekend reinforces the great blessing of the times I am able to come home.