Home.
This morning we were awakened by the drums of the lion dancers, and Rock Star Roomie and I rushed outside to take pictures and watch the festivities. We were in such a hurry we simply thew on pants and coats over our pajamas and hurried through the pedestrian underpass and into the square on Nanjing Road.
The dancers were magical-- long bright dragons controlled by bamboo poles bobbed and swayed and weaved around us, moving to the beat of the drummers. The drummers were fantastic to watch-- circled around the dancers, they beat out a deafening cadence.
After breakfast, we packed up our stuff for the last time and hauled everything down to the waiting bus. Schlepp, schlepp to the airport, where we waited patiently for check-in and boarding. We have lots of time to wait, we thought. We'll say goodbye when we get to O'Hare.
Twelve more hours on a plane with RSR (lucky break, that one) and everyone was more than ready to get off and headed in their respective directions. Hurried goodbyes were followed by one more short hop home-- we spread out from O'Hare like a web. Los Angeles, Orlando, Omaha, Vancouver, New York, Charleston, San Antonio.
And waiting at our locations, loved ones smiling and kissing and hugging. Hubby was waiting at the baggage claim along with the Maestro's wife, Guitarman's girlfriend and Groovemaster D's brother. After hurried goodbyes we scurried to our car covered in ice and salt and drove home over frozen streets.
There are not words enough to describe my delight at a warm feather bed inhabited by the two of us and our two furry friends. A long cozy snuggle awaits me, so I'll talk to y'all tomorrow.
