It's like picking back up where we left off. It's one of my other homes, a place of tranquility and sanctuary, a place of intense rural quiet, and comfort. I can sleep off jet- ag and be no inconvenience. The lines are clean and well-decorated. I would never dare white carpet, but here it brings light and space to complement all the familial artwork on the wall. Generations of photographs, paintings, prints. I have such talented relatives.

The quiet air over the North Atlantic last night brought me here, met by a family friend, delivered to my grandmother for safekeeping. chamaeleoncat drove up today, and we were fed an impressive spread of brunch pastries before strolling thorugh the sunlight and pleasant light around the ponds and fountains, through flowering shrubs and trees and wide expanses of green, catching up. That's part of what I love about being here so: there's so much green. Dinner was at Constantine's, straightforward, competent meats, eaten in reunion with my great uncle and aunt. The lamp chops were enormous; I took the second one home.

Some things change through: the wireless internet access is new, courtesy of printperson's extended labor last time she was here. The adorable pool of light over baby herbs, DIY hydroponics, a gift from marzapane & P., provides a sweet, verdant nightlight with which to arrive home at the tail end of sunlight.

It's good to be home again so few hours after leaving it - wherever home is.