dimanche 27 avril 2008

Home. Home on the range.

Apparently I am at home.

I am staying at my mother's house for three days while I go to meetings at my company HQ. I've cunningly arranged meetings for Friday and Monday so that I have the weekend between to visit family, friends, catch up, get drunk, chase tail (yeah, right).

Anyway, the thing that is annoying me is that everyone (and I mean everyone) that I have spoken to - from colleagues to family members, people I barely know, people I love - everyone I have interacted with, has asked me the same question....

"How long are you home for?"

OK. Home may well be where the heart is, or maybe it's wherever I lay my hat - I guess it depends on which strand of accepted wisdom you subscribe to - but actually, for me, home is my house. The place where my things are. The place where I live. The place where I get my mail and do my laundry.

Home is in France. It is Lyon, soon to be in Paris. In the UK, at my mother's house, in the office at my 'hotdesk', in the pub with mates, I am not at home - I am a visitor.

So every time I get asked this question I answer with "I'll be back home on Tuesday". Some people get it, most people think I'm being obtuse, awkward, pretentious.

My clothes are in a suitcase, my toiletries in an airline approved plastic bag.

I am not at home.

10 commentaires:

Medbh a dit…

I've lived in places that never felt like home.
For example the 4 years in Kansas, for instance.
For years I reserved Philly as my idea of home, but after enough years went by I gave that up.

Safe home, Travelling.

conortje a dit…

I know that feeling - iit's hard to beat your own bed and wherever that is is surely home. And I can't wait until yoru home is in Paris so I can visit, yipeeee :-)

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Medbh, I can only imagine 4 years in Kansas - I drove through a corner of Kansas last summer - it was a two hour drive that seemed to last a lot longer! I think one of the great things about life is that we sometimes end up in such strange places...

Conortje, you're right - there's no bed in the world like your own bed. So good to go back to after travelling.

And come to Paris! I'll let you knwo when I move....currently looking at apartments....

aims a dit…

A good post that stirs up a lot of emotions.

Is 'home' your original place of birth - or where your parents are - or your own bed.

Very interesting!

Lane a dit…

Interesting. Home is where my children and things are housed. It's my nest and not the place I was born. Oh no:-)

Swearing Mother a dit…

My son is "home" for the weekend, though I overheard him telling his mates that he would be "home" with them on Wednesday.

Weird feeling that his home is now different from ours. And a little sad.

Lewis a dit…

What?! They are doing that clear plastic bag thing over there too? To make us all safer? And, I agree...my home is my home. Where in the UK is Momma's place, anyway? Happy returns to France.

Breezy a dit…

I know just what you mean but I didn't till I went back to the UK. I then realised that home was our place in France and I was just a visitor in the UK now. At least that's settled. You could look on the positive side as you are obviously included as part of their perception of home

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Hi Aims and Lane - Aims, I think it has to be your own bed - or as Lane so nicely puts it - your nest.

SM, it must be hard for parents when kids call somewhere else home, I feel for you on that one.

Lewis, 'Momma Mia' is in Birmingham, a great city in the centre of England. Home to Swearing Mother and many othe great folks....And yes, the plastic bag thing is here, and driving everyone mad....

Breezy, what a lovely thing to say, thanks for that. An excellent way to look at it!

red a dit…

I tend to move to new countries in September and then visit Dublin at Christmas. So when I'm talking about going to see my parents at Christmas I usually say "I'm going home for the holidays." But once I'm in Ireland and people say how long are you staying for I find myself saying "I'll be going home in a week."
They probably think I'm pretentious too. But for me now home is anywhere The Major is.

I found your blog through Conor's and I think it's really lovely.