I'm back at the Snakepit Inc., and managed to push the cobwebs aside enough to slink through the doorway, though the suitcases are still in the car. Your regularly scheduled programming will continue when I get my bearings and sealegs.
It's odd that the word 'home' in Finnish means that green moldy gunk. Makes one ambivalent about using it to refer to the place where you can legally lock other people out. Though perhaps not.