Home Sweet Home

Somewhere in my lineage I have gypsy blood. I have a constant need to move on, to be somewhere other than where I am, and to experience new things. We just returned from being gone from home for over three weeks and already I am thinking about somewhere to go. Perhaps it is my parent's fault, because, as a child every year we would spend the summer somewhere in the country, usually in the east. We would drive across the country, rent a house or apartment, stay for about 8 weeks while my dad taught at the local university, and then head home again. That whetted my appetite for a change of scene. Also, in the first years of my marriage we moved every 2-3 years. I can't say I minded it because every place provided new experiences and new friends. I was younger then, and moving a household wasn't so daunting. It has been twelve years since we moved; high time to be on our way.
For the short term we have a trip planned to Africa, a road trip to Utah and a short visit to southern California (all in May!) My gypsy side is thrilled. Sometime in the spring ( it is spring until June, after all) I am planning some day trips, probably with my darling youngest daughter. Unfortunately (facetious here) she went and got a job and our outings will be governed by her work schedule.
There is just one enticement to coming home--my bed. I do love my bed, and it is great to return to it from time to time. I think my husband bought this bed to keep me somewhat tethered.
For now, though, I am extremely anxious because I have at least 6 weeks this summer with no travel plans. That must be rectified! I am sure this is fodder for psychiatric discussion, but so be it.