the road to the turnpike was murder, but it's never a cinch

I seem to have a strange aversion to actually posting about trips. Let's see if I can get it all over with in a rush!

( this is how it went. )

The drive home and all that was fairly uneventful, and my back is sore -- let me suffice to say that we got home and aren't dead and got everything unpacked and Bartholomew was overjoyed to see us again. And life is settling back into old rhythms.