there's something about home. . .

i find myself staying up watching old episodes of the cosby show. subsequently sleeping in way past my normal time. feeling lazy.

and yet, this trip feels weird somehow. perhaps it's because my sister, nephew, and niece are no longer here.

my parents' home has always carried a sense of melancholy and calm. . . it was masked temporarily by dogs, the stream of friends that my brother and i would bring home, then later with my sister's little tykes. . .but now, the house seems a little forelorn.