Dawn's daze: A wedding in Palm Springs

Jeff and I went back to our old stomping grounds in Palm Springs last week. The weather was perfect — sunny and warm during the day and cool with a slight breeze in the evening. We went back for the wedding of our friend and former co-worker, Mike. We got to hang out with a bunch of newspaper buddies, eat at our favorite restaurants and go the annual tennis tournament at Indiana Wells. Oh, and we drank a few cocktails, shared a few memories and visited our old house.

That house visit was the only sad part of the weekend. We drove by after having a fun lunch with our friends (and former editors) Vikki and Diane. We realized that strangers were living in our house. I mean sure, we're not paying the mortgage anymore, but come on, that's my house. I ate, slept, laughed, cried, watched TV, celebrated holidays, hosted parties, adopted a puppy, cooked family dinners and toasted friends at that house. Who is this family called Biggers? Why do they live in my home? They can't possible look fondly down on the chip in kitchen counter tile and remember the goodbye party responsible. They don't know how Sassy used to wait at the window in the front room for us to arrive home. They don't know how Alley used to slip on the tile floor when she'd run too fast. They don't know how to cram 15 people in the dining room for Thanksgiving dinner.

I miss my home. I know, I know. A house is just a house. It's the family in the house that turns it into a home. But, still, that was one mighty fine house packed full of memories.

Jeff and I at Mike and Erica's wedding in Palm Springs.

The house Jeff and I rented. It didn't have a wall around it then, but we said if we ever bought it we would wall in the front yard and add a pool.

The house Jeff and I owned in La Quinta. It was Alley's first home. A new family lives there now, but only the address on the mailbox looks different.