I'm home.

Earlier in the day, I made the Freudian slip of saying that once we "got home" I would take care of something.

I'm thinking that it's not a slip.  I'm pretty certain that I'm at home.

I love it here.

So does Will.  So does Jeff.

I can't wait to dip my toes in the clay; sit on the front of the boat and feel the wind in my hair.  I'm home.  One day.  I'm home.