Homeward?

"Home" remains a vague concept to me. When I rolled into my current base camp in 1977, my lifelong average for any base camp was ? ? ? 6 months? Precise data in *need* of calculation. I was 22 and just passing through. Staying on just kind of snuck up on me. I keep moving on and keep coming back. Is that a possible definition of "Home?"

I have been worried about hubs since. . . Since we got married in 1980, I s'pose. It's one of my jobs, isn't it? What's love got to do with it? The wife sense has been rattling extra hard this past week. Not an emergency siren, but noteworthy all the same. Last night, after ES and his SO headed back to the Urban Homestead, hubs and I decided by text that I would head back to the base camp to help with the thing shuffle that is still sitting unsorted after the tri-city shuffle.

YS got out of the hospital yesterday and is reunited with his wife and two kids.  Prayers in progress. We have been texting since one of the kids woke him up before 5 a.m. Hubs was there for him during the entire two-parent hospital drama. YS is as worried about his father as I am worried about my husband. It has been an intense year for the old man. His executive super cape is looking quite wrinkled these days.

I am mostly packed and ready for the 3 hour drive south. Just taking a brain rest before the final pack. We see what the day shall bring.