I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

It is Sunday morning, and the clock on our oven is telling me it is about half past 8.

My body completely disagrees.

As I sit here at our kitchen counter-- a little cold (my parents are self-proclaimed members of the "Polar Bear Club"-- a.k.a. the Why-Turn-Up-The-Heat-When-We-Have-Warm-Socks Club-- and while, as Dean Martin so handsomely puts it, "I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm" {and boy, oh boy do I!! I AM HOME!! My mom is in front of me making our traditional fruit cups [that means its really Christmas time], I get to see ALL OF MY FRIENDS TODAY, Sam is asleep in the guest room and we are going to Lucques tonight, oh life is so so wonderful} a little heat would be nice) and extremely exhausted-- with my dogs to my left, Christmas tree to my right and Bing Crosby in the background... I know I am home.

My body may still think it is in Madrid, 
but my heart knows better.