bloopers and getting back

Pics: From this morning's photoshoot. I wanted a picture of my sister and me with the Acropolis in the background for the holiday card. But our selfie skills and timing were off and we kept messing up the shots: our big heads were in the way, or our expressions were unready, or it tickled, and by the end we were just laughing so hard the pics were unusable. But looking at these pictures when I was by myself on the trip back made me smile every time. (We have matching blue silk blouses and olive-wreath headbands for "atmosphere.")

I was ready to be back home, but simultaneously SO SAD to say goodbye. Incidentally, we said goodbye FOUR times at the airport--thinking each time we might not be able to make it back to a common area in the departure lounge to hang out although our flights were within an hour of each other's. My flight was earlier, and the same ticket agent witnessed our super-clingy (cringey?) goodbye twice. I don't care. I probably won't be able to see my sister until the summer or even longer. (And I'll probably never see that ticket agent again in my life.)

Big A told me forty-five minutes into our hour's journey back home from the airport that he'd had pain on his left side all evening. I would have taken the bus back home if I'd known earlier. (It immediately made me think it sounded like a warning sign of a heart attack, but he claims it is probably just some inflammation. I trust his diagnosis though.) My sister's partner too sprouted a fever this week. I feel like our partners should be able to make it a week without us? I've kissed a sleeping Nu hello, and have been hanging out with Max and Huckie who gave me a hero's welcome home (but then, they always do no matter how long or short my absence has been) while eating the remains of the dinner and fruit salad the fam had earlier. I missed all of this...