Six months ago, on the day we left home, in the minutes before we left home, I stood in my kitchen and looked around. I saw the chook bucket that needed to be emptied, the cupboard that had come off it's hinges, the cobwebby windows, the cold concrete floor, too many bits of paper magneted to the fridge and all the other stuff I just hadn't gotten around to.

I am not going to ever miss this place, I thought to myself.

Over the months away I have often remembered that moment. Maybe as a reality check, possibly to judge my progress, definitely to ensure I made the most of our time away.

Today is our last day away from that kitchen, our last day away from home.

This morning, just after I woke up, I lay in bed for a while and pictured myself there, standing in that same spot in the kitchen.

In my mind I slowly looked around and surveyed the scene.

Surprisingly it felt good.

In my imaginary visit home this morning there was family chaos as usual but it felt fresh! Airy. There was music playing, there was jam simmering on the stove (could it be jam season yet?), there were freshly picked flowers on the table, vegies brought in from the garden and there was the hustle and bustle of a meal being put together. Together.

It was homey.

Could it be that perhaps I am ready for home? To go home?

Or as farmer Bren put it to me this morning; Going home is just the next part of this adventure.


Happy travels friends.
Happy homes. x

ps. We'll announce the giveaway winner in the next few days.