Home again, home again, jiggedy jig
posted by Helen
When I was a kid, whenever we arrived home from a longish family trip (it may have been a day at Candlewood lake or a two week camping trip in the White Mountains), my dad would say "home again, home again, jiggedy jig" as we rattled down the driveway in the station wagon. It was comforting then and I still think it nearly every time I come home from a trip.
I'm relieved to be home. It was a good trip, but long. It isn't that I don't like the places we visit, it's just that I like this particular place so much. On the way home from the airport, I feel a frisson of happiness every time I reach a certain point on route 89.
So here we are. Back in our routine: a dog to walk, friends to greet at the post office, a stack of mail to open. It doesn't seem like much, but it is everything.
I'm relieved to be home. It was a good trip, but long. It isn't that I don't like the places we visit, it's just that I like this particular place so much. On the way home from the airport, I feel a frisson of happiness every time I reach a certain point on route 89.
So here we are. Back in our routine: a dog to walk, friends to greet at the post office, a stack of mail to open. It doesn't seem like much, but it is everything.
Labels: Travels
Posted at 6:15 AM
2 Comments:
I do the same thing pretty much, except I seem to remember it as "home again home again jiggedy jog"
Sam and I sometimes do the longer version: "To market, to market, to buy a fat pig. Home again, home again, jiggedy jig. To market, to market, to buy a fat hog. Home again, home again, jiggedy jog." So...you're both right!
Heidi
Post a Comment
<< Home