I am one weary traveler

We got in last night, around 6:45. Why is it that the trip back is always so much longer? I don't just mean because you don't really want to come home, either. The flight was 90 minutes longer, the headwinds kept pushing us back across the Atlantic at the point where all I wanted was to be home.

By the time we got in, I was ready for sleep, but I stayed awake until it was a reasonably normal bedtime to try to force myself back on schedule. The cats were pathetic in their refusal to admit they missed us; since 6 of them slept with us last night, I can only assume we were missed.























There will be a full day-by-day catch-up of the vacation, complete with too many pictures, but right now I think I need another nap.

I leave you with a photo of my Florentine loot: 2 meters of plaid boucle (claimed to be Chanel); green leather bag from Mario; green fuzzy scarf from Mario; ridiculous shoes (from me to me). Plus a La Mia Boutique and random other small goodies.

Did I mention I'm still tired?