Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like it. Home, of course. Sunday night was the first night I spent at our home since the previous Sunday.

That Sunday night, I was still suffering from this “crud” that has hit so many people. Wobbly, feverish and weary, I was watching a bit of TV in the spare bedroom when hubby gave me the unhappy news.

“Plumbing’s backed up.” Right about that time, I heard a gushing sound from the guest bath.

Benny went to grab the mop and his rubber boots and called out over his shoulder, “I think you’ll want to pack up your things. We’ll go and stay at Daddy’s house.”

And so I did pack, tossing things into a suitcase all “higgley -piggley” just like the little girl did in one of my favorite children’s books, “The Pink Motel.”

I was also grabbing clothes that I was originally intending to wash at home but would have to take with me.

As I tossed personal care items in a bag, two things dawned on me: (A) I really am not a light packer, and (B) maybe I am a tad high-maintenance?

Now, remember, I said I was under the weather. When I unpacked at the Greenville house, I realized I had left my pajamas and good black and gray pants behind, and brought the pants with the broken zipper. Sigh.

If I didn’t care whether my clothes were color coordinated or not, it would be one thing, but – I am my mother’s child, after all.

At any rate, we had a comfortable bed and toilets that flushed without vile things spewing out at you (and a very short commute to work, which was nice for a change), but what we didn’t have were the pets.

We (mostly Benny) would make daily visits out to the country to feed, water, scoop litter and check on things.

Our poor dog was absolutely thrilled to see one of his humans again and of course, completely crestfallen each time we’d leave again. The cats, independent and sophisticated souls that they are, merely said, “Oh, you’re here? Do make sure the food dish is filled, now that’s a good human.”

Spouse worked on the plumbing problem this weekend and we are back at home again. Rascal, the German Shepherd mix puppy (who is already full-sized) is almost beside himself with joy.

And even the cats are happy, I do believe. Sweet Callie hopped up in my lap several times and cuddled beside my laptop. She gave me these gorgeous up-side-down gazes with those hazel eyes of hers. Puddin,’ the haughty diva cat, purred as she cuddled up on my shoulder in bed, Thumper enthusiastically rubbed her head on my feet (that cat loves feet) and Luckie allowed me to lug him around, giving him kisses, lovable stoic that he is.

Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like it.