Sunday, September 23, 2018


My husband brought me a bit of Delft-ware. The small and perfect piece was wrapped carefully in his suitcase and made it home from the Netherlands in one piece.

He made a side trip to Delft from Den Hague. To see old churches, he said. And, knowing him, old churches were definitely on the agenda. But somewhere on that day he found the time to think of home, and of me. And to find a perfect treasure to bring back.

Today all the controversies will have to wait. The Board of Ed race, HoCo development, school redistricting, a fix for Old EC. They’re not going anywhere. They’ll be there tomorrow.

At the end of what has seemed like the longest week ever I’m savoring the feeling that we are all here. Everyone is home safe. A perfect piece of Delftware is a treat. The greater treasure is that my husband made it there and back again unbroken. In perfect condition, one might say.

Sightseeing and souvenirs add much to our views of life outside the bubble. But, to my mind at least, nothing beats that first hug of homecoming.

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