"Home" again

We made it back over the ocean with only one bout of turbulance that made our big backpack come crashing out of the overhead bin (great, right? Yeah, I about puked.). Seeing as how we were stuck with a wide assortment of hillbillies on the various flights from Germany and within the U.S., we really did deserve the kick-ass row of people we sat next to on the way home yesterday. We got to sit in the bulkhead row again, and the dear woman named Glenda sitting next to us couldn't wait to hold Harper.

I'll admit, I was happy to be back here, where there are laws about how people should drive and how in shape their cars should be (no missing bumpers here and, above all, no more freaking "Nobama" stickers). But I'll also have to admit that I am feeling some twinges of sadness about leaving the U.S. (though maybe not Florida). The first days after our U.S. vacations are always kind of conflicting for me. Plus, Harper is showing some major signs of jetlag, which did have the upside of giving us the chance to see what's on TV here at 2 a.m. (nothing good, unless you're into basic-cable quality soft porn, presumably from France).

And now, after three and a half weeks of hitting the "z" key instead of "y" (they're switched on American keyboards), I'm doing exactly the opposite here.