I’m pretty sure I’ve never been to market, to market, to buy a fat pig, but now I’m home again home again jiggidy jig.
Which is to say after all this drama, I’m glad to be in my tiny furnished cave with my growing collection of cows and sheep and duckens and pigs.
They seemed to be glad to see me too, or as glad as any animal that immediately mates can be when it sees someone carrying food.
Yes, I’m still cynical. But that doesn’t keep me from getting homesick. I contain multitudes.