Seven Months Away From Home

Well, I've been overseas for just over seven months now. Still enjoying it immensely, but starting to miss home. And perhaps appreciate it a bit more. Appreciate unexpected things. I'm really missing familiarity and safety. But its funny what I associate with familiarity and safety.  More than anything I just want to go home and have my Mum cook for me, nothing beats a feast cooked by her. And I want to sit with her on the couch, sewing or stitching or knitting, and watching TV.. Grand Designs, New Tricks, Doc Martin.. (Funnily enough, all English programs!) We don't have a TV in our house here, which is nice. But sometimes it is also nice to just veg out.



I want to go for a walk with my Dad along the creek and to the dam. And I want him to make ridiculous Dad jokes. I want to see that look on his face where we know he's just about to make a joke, his mind is ticking over, checking it. I want to cuddle my nieces and nephews who are growing up faster than I can comprehend. I want to go for a drive along the country roads I know so well. I want to appreciate the mountains that surround my house. I want to hear the thud and beat of hooves as the horses gallop over the hill. I want to sit in the warmth on the grass in my backyard, looking out across the valley, listening to the breeze rustling through the banana leaves. I want to climb the fig tree - something that always takes me back to feeling like a child again.

I want to walk to our workshop and just look. Look at all the things. The shelves of glass bottles and broken toys and dried insects. Bags of clay waiting to be used. Pegs. Colourful pegs. I want to appreciate the handmade birds hanging from the ceiling, gathering dust. They've been there as long as I can remember - twenty years. I used to sit under them in my cot while my Mum painted and engraved. The print hanging on the door. I want to hear the ceiling creaking and cracking as it expands in the heat
in the middle of the day.

I want to hear my neighbour and her dogs walk past to check the cows. I want to smell the jasmine that grows on our fence. I want to go outside and hear nothing. Nothing but life. Birds. Cows. Or nothing. Some days there is complete silence. I want to drive to general store on a Saturday morning and get the newspapers and fresh bread rolls for breakfast..


I want. I want. I want.

I want to appreciate. And I am. And somehow, part of me actually feels it too.


So it's okay. Because today, being here, is so special and comforting and safe and familiar in its own way. And I love it. And I love the people. And I love the food! And I love the unknown. What will happen next?

I love Brighton!