… and Berlin still holds me close. Do I dare leave? Even for a moment?
Homeward I go.
Home.
Where is that exactly?
Just 30 more days and I will fly back for my first visit in two fleet-footed years. I’ve seen Amsterdam again in the time since. And both Begur and Barcelona, although I neglected to blog of it.
But heading back for three weeks in D.C. seems practically unreal. How could I have been away for so long?
How can it be that as quickly as I will arrive, I will be gone again.
Friends here occasionally ask me what I miss.
Well, it sure ain’t politics. (Although seeing Hillary Clinton eat crow on CNN in the post-Iowa fallout sure felt nice.)
I miss veggie burgers at the American City Diner with Vicki. Chocolate bread pudding, tofu-avocado salad, Tex-Mex-Salvadoran … And just yesterday, Meg, Kathy and I were chatting about RT’s and the best calamari in town.
It will be a food tour!
And, no doubt, I will be craving a Berliner Currywurst by the time it is all done.
It’s nearly 1:30 a.m. here. Alex comes tomorrow, and we will paint my kitchen wall into a big ol’ magnetized chalkboard. (Maybe that’s it: Home is Where the Paint Is.)
Time for bed.
See you all soon.
No, no, really.
Soon.
—
P.S. I miss you too.
Two years and I am still very much
Yours.
