Home.

We are here.

After a slightly harrowing, late-afternoon drive in a downpour... made more angst-ridden by the worry that I would fall asleep at the wheel of the Loser Cruiser, whilst on one of the busiest and most dangerous stretches of highway in the province. (Because, Child Number Three and I "did" the Pre-School Picnic this morning, and after wrapping the week up on THAT frenetic note... Well, let's just say that what I required was a long NAP, not a hundred-and-twenty-minute rush-hour road-trip.)

But oh, it was all so worth it. Because we are all so glad to be "home" once more.

Due to my extreme weariness tonight, the most I can offer right now are seven random facts about being "home"... A more coherent, well-thought-out post will (hopefully!) follow tomorrow:

1. The main street of town has been completely torn up, inexplicably, right at the "height" of the theatre season. Apparently, NOTHING says "Let's Renovate!" like a summer's-worth of tourists trying to flood in and out of town twice a day for the next four or five months. I swear, as we careened along the gravel-and-dirt, pothole-punctuated thoroughfare, I half expected herds of wildebeests to suddenly appear, galloping out of the dust clouds billowing all around me. It was sheer madness. What. A. Mess. Tomorrow is Saturday-- traditionally, the busiest day of the week, here. Needless to say, the girlies and I will be WALKING, anywhere we go. Rain or shine.

2. Amazingly, it took no more than the sound of my parents' front door un-locking, and crossing the threshold of my family's home to make every pore of my being exhale and relax this evening. And after the week I've had, this is no small miracle.

3. It will come as no surprise to you, then, when I report that the thought of attempting to concoct something for dinner that my three children would all eat never even entered my mind tonight. Instead, we hit "Madelyn's", the best little diner in the whole wide friggin' world, never mind Stratford, Ontario, Canada. Their "Gooey Grilled Cheese" and fresh-cut french fries are legendary, and the hot beef sandwich and two big scoops of mashed potatoes, topped with ladle-fuls of gravy, is a taste sensation I dream about (usually whilst frantically pedalling 15 km on my exercise bike). Yum. I am now so full, I need not eat anything ever again... well, maybe not until first-thing tomorrow, when we'll hit the farmer's market, and I'll have to taste-test all the cheese, and try the summer sausage... Oh, and then there's those great big smartie cookies-on-a-stick things, and the poppy seed danish, and PIES... And did I remember to pack my stretchy yoga pants...

4. Although I manage to maintain the facade of being a fairly-responsible grown-up when my kids are awake, after they have all gone off to bed and I am "alone" in my parents' house, I immediately revert to feeling twelve years old again.

5. And thus it feels ever-so-slightly uncomfortable to raid the wine cellar for a nice glass of white-something-or-other... But thankfully, only for a second or two. Because, after all, I AM a busy, thirty-eight-year-old mother-of-three. I really deserve a drink.

6. It is an undeniable fact that the half-sized, ancient porcelain bathtub in my childhood home is more comfortable than the enormous soaker tub in my own master-bathroom. Even though my feet hang out the other end, there's no contest.

7. I plan to sleep right through any and all thunder-and-lightning storms tonight. And by golly, I'm praying my three children do, too.

G'night.