Dancing Bears, Painted Wings

Coming home to a quiet house. I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. It's like in the Disney movie Anastasia where she re-enters the palace and sees the memory of all the dancers in the ballroom. Except, all my family is still alive, just gone their separate ways.

If I were a writer, I'd put a poem here. But alas, I'm a reader and philosopher...of sorts. Call me a thinker that can't translate thoughts well. Guess that's why I'm a teacher.

Now I'm just rambling.

It just takes some adjusting. I'm in one of my "introvert" moods. Except that I'll be around lots of people for quite some time.