We’ve driven south, out of Canada to upstate New York, to visit someone we’ve only known digitally for a long time (actually through the same group that introduced S and I to each other).
So although we do have to get back to Canada for flights, we are here to visit K and P and their adorable son M (and the myriad pet menagerie) for the afternoon.
And there are hardly words for how excited we are as we go, or how sweet it is when we are there, or how much we miss them immediately on leaving.
It’s rush hour as we get back into Montreal.
My flight is pushed out a little (we have planned takeoff just a few minutes before S’s flight). There is a problem on the plane so that we are delayed on the tarmac without air conditioning for a good while. Long enough that they give us the option to get off and fly tomorrow rather than wait. No one does. Eventually we take off – universally hot and sticky – and land smoothly in DC.
Airport transport, hotel shuttle, and then the long drive home. S has a shorter flight and a shorter drive but we arrive to our respective homes at almost the same time.
Small hours, unpacked only enough to get myself cleaned up and to bed.
Aaaaah, bed. Home.
It was a wonderful time. And it is wonderful to be back, also.