We’re finally home from Montpellier, back in Phoenix. I spent most of the past 24 hours wedged into middle seats on airliners, so I’m now rewarding myself with one or more cold beers, in my kitchen, in my underwear. It’s good to be home.
A young woman from our parish, whom we met during our pilgrimage to Mexico City last July, took care of the cat and watched our house while we were away. When we got home, we discovered she had also washed our sheets, made our bed, and advanced our calendar from April to May. Sometimes it’s the little things that one appreciates the most.