Coming home: a vacation’s parting gift

I just got home from a family holiday in Italy’s beautiful Umbria region. We had a great time enjoying the breathtaking sights: the rolling green hills, the gentle mountain streams, and cobblestone medieval cities. And the food. Dear lord, the food. I already miss the pasta, pizza, and truffle1. When we got home a few days ago, however, I was incredibly happy; I didn’t miss Italy at all. Why? As much as I love going on holiday, I love coming home equally as much, if not more. Home is comfortable and familiar. You know where everything is (okay, mostly) and have everything just the way you want it. You don’t have to think about each and every little thing, as opposed to when you’re on vacation (where, for the love of God, are the cups?!) Not only that, you’re reunited with all the comforts of home: a dishwasher (my wrinkled hands are grateful), a laundry machine (no more worrying if you’ve got enough clean clothes left), and have I mentioned the joy of sleeping in your own bed again?…