On the metro from Athens to Piraeus.

Callum's been playing a new game lately. "What do you like more...?" and then he fills in the blanks with things that are increasingly harder for me to choose from. The only rule, and this is payback for years of my own unwillingness to compare things, is that I can't say, "apples and oranges." I have to choose. He has some of the quirkiest categories, like "olive oil or gold," or (maybe not so odd, but hard to pick) "beach or pool." I got a lot of this on this trip. When he was feeling neglected, the choices turned maudlin... "sapphires or me..." to which I'd have to say something like, "Who are you again?" I mean really kid, give me a break.

But here I am faced with my own dilemma. Is is better to have to wade through nearly 3 GIGS of photos from our trip and choose from my favorites or to have no photos at all?

No brainer.

Not "apples and oranges."

But, I have some work to do, clearly, before I can bore everyone with a serious pictorial history.

I always come back from a trip feeling really restless. I look around my house, my things, my whole life, totally dissatisfied. I want less things, better food, more time. If I were Greek (and a man), I'd close the door on all the unpacking and laundry and pantry restocking and head to the taverna for an ouzo, some mezedes, and several hours of sitting, watching and talking. In some ways it's exciting to think about reframing my life a bit, making it more Greek-like. Tamping the clutter (and tv) down to live more compactly. Constantly on this trip, I was pulling Callum in closer to me. He'd sprawl on the lobby floor of the hotel, pushing his ship back and forth, totally oblivious to the people who had to walk around him, or detour their rolling luggage out of his way. I wanted to reduce his footprint. Now that I'm home, I want to reduce mine.

But there is so much stuff. It swirls like static around me. Neel doesn't think I could leave it all behind me, all this stuff, and move to my Cycladic dream home. I can't move to my Cycladic dream home (yet...although I'll have some photos of some of my options to show you soon!), but I can make it happen here. I might need some therapy, or a personal organizer first, but I could wake up and take a frappe' out to the back yard with me every morning rather than turn on the TODAY show. I can cook from my pantry and not overbuy each week at the grocery store. I can reduce my clutter so there's less to do to maintain it. And then, I can settle in. Summer is a good time to try.

And in case you're wondering, I got a lot more olives (every meal) than aquamarines (none) on this trip. Even though I tried!