Home

I am so damn happy. It is so wonderful here that I feel like I am on vacation. I keep turning to Maggie to say, "Can you believe that we actually live here? These are our sunsets. These are our streets. I mean, this is like our very own home!" Unfortunately, Maggie doesn't share in my exuberance, nor does she understand what I am saying. She does understand O-U-T-S-I-D-E. I have to spell it out just like I wrote it to not get her excited when Charlie, Rosa, or my father are over here.

Also, there are neighbors and they like me. Not often do I walk out of the house and don't get caught by Joyce or Ed down the street. We talk about neighborly things such as the weather, or my sister-in-law's newly found-out pregnancy. It will be her and my brother's second child. News travels fast in this little, small Southern town.

Today, I am editing my book for the umpteenth time; in my own computer room full of geeky goodness like computers, new desks and chairs, and shelves upon shelves of software and parts for future computers. Motherboards. Processors. Little boxes of random access memory. All just sitting and waiting for the perfect moment when I get the urge to tinker and build. And then there is the soft and comfortable bed in here that I will sometimes lie upon at night while I listen to the radio streaming over the internet. Things are coming together. Glorious. It is the only word that really comes to mind right now. This all feels so grown-up with smells of fresh paint, newly shellacked wood floors, and a kitchen filled with matching white appliances. I think I am finally home.