There seems to be a sense, then, in which we are all like the younger brother. We are all exiles, always longing for home. We are always traveling, never arriving. The houses and families we actually inhabit are only inns along the way, but they aren't home. Home continues to evade us.
I got my Barbour jacket yesterday and it is AWESOME! My new favorite jacket. Light enough for Fall days in Texas... heavy enough to layer and be warm on the coldest days. Now all I have to do is figure out if I want Barbour to reproof it (rewax the exterior surface).
I have been looking for a Barbour for a while and found one I couldn't resist. I paid more than I wanted to because it was in pounds... damn British... but I think I will own this one for the rest of my life. Unfortunately (or fortunately) it is a 38 and I usually wear a 39 or 40. Crossing my fingers.