I’m back breathing in the Good Airs, simmering in the sunshine, dodging the doggy do and staying out till way-ay-ay too late, and it feels like coming home. Part of it's the folks, mis amigos de años who've come trotting out of their daily swirl to twirl me around the city again. And part of it's the city itself, the cracked pavements and big trees, the lady-crazed Argie boys and their constant piropos, the number 50 bus and the garrolous taxistas, the cheek-kissing and meat-eatin' joy of Buenos Aires. It's also good being back among folks where vagabonding is the norm and slipping between languages doubles your chances of finding the right way to express whatever it is you're feeling. Which right now, in my case, is en casa.