Dorothy knew it.
So did E.T.
My father was at home anywhere if he had his pipe. He filled it from a zippered leather pouch that he kept in his vest pocket. It held the secrets of his life in his ‘other’ home, the fascinating-to-me foundry where he worked on the South side of town.
At Christmas, all roads lead home.
~ Marjorie Holmes, American writer
Being home in CT is the sweetest piece of my Holiday Pie.
Where do you hang out at Christmas?
Wherever it is, have a Cool Yule.