Home sick

It has been fun so far. I'll admit. It's been one full month of fun (and quite a bit of work, too).

 

However, I went to a restaurant Thursday night and when I asked for some water it was served in a blue glass like this:

 



Photo credit: Jessica Raum

 

I have glasses like this at home. They are from Ikea. They have a slight blue tinge, which I love. I like the size of them, the simple styling of them, the way they fit in my hand.

 

Sometimes the littlest thing, like a glass style from home, makes you realize what you're missing. Such as having your own glasses all neat in the cupboard.

I'm reminded of my 3 cats, who like me to rub their bellies. Or my bath tub that I enjoy on Saturday or Sunday mornings with a coffee. Going to the pub with my neighbours on a Friday night for wings and a pint. Or with my friends at Ceilidh Cottage on Tuesdays for a pint and (groan) hashed something (again)!

 

When I'm at home, I have my yoga class, my friends, my family. Dinner parties, going to movies with friends or biking along the Lakeshore and swimming at Ashbridges Bay.

 

On the road I have the hotel services, dinners alone at restaurants, the hotel spa. Nothing is ever in the same place. You want yoga, you have to find it and you won't know anyone. You want a pub, go ahead, walk in, but no one knows you there. Everyting is new.

 

In anything we do, there are prices we pay and gains we make. Sometimes missing things makes you more grateful that they exist at all. And sometimes being away allows you to realize the things at home that perhaps you could do without. Or those things you should do more of, like seeing friends or taking advantage of the city you live in.

 

When at home, it is always so easy to wrap yourself into your own cocoon and say, "I'm busy! I'm booked!" So hard it is to reach out and say, "Hey, come on out, let's enjoy life together."

 

I am enjoying the restaurants, meeting people here, learning about how similar Canada is to Australia in its geography, in the style of its people.

 

I guess what I'm trying to say is:  Home is home. Away is away. Both are great places to be. One is restful and the other requires vigilance and fortitude.

 

I have vigilance in spades, I suppose. But that doesn't mean I'm not pining a wee bit for home, for my own place, my relatives, friends and neighbours and my cats (Henry, Kate, Mister Bean), and those lazy days when I look out my window and smile when I realize that all I need to do today is make myself a cup of tea.

 

Last weekend, I was kind of glad to work on the Saturday and not have to tour about, or answer emails or calls or anything else. But time is of the essence, right? One must relish the marrow of life while opportunity abounds.

 

Tomorrow I'm going to The Rocks with Harry. Monday I go to the Hunter Valley for a wine tour. Tuesday I go to Brisbane again. Then back to Melbourne.

 

A nomad I am. A nomad I will be. And that's amazing.

 

But oh, so much will I enjoy getting home and lying on my couch, looking out my window with my cat on my chest, and napping an afternoon away as a cup of tea cools on the table beside me.