Which way is home?

  Home is an intresting concept. There have been many times over the past year and a half where I have said "I want to go home." And my lovely Husband usually replies "And where would that be, exactly?"

Exactly.

Where is home? It's an interesting concept for those who travel. Right now, our litle apartment on Military Road is home. At the end of a long day at work, I am so happy to come back to it and find my familiar things. But next week we will board a plane to Canada, and we keep saying things like "when we go home" or "what to pack for home." And the funniest part of all is that when our visit is over, I will be happy to be coming home to Australia.

Home, they say, is where the heart is. But that doesn't seem to work for me. I have a litle bit of everywhere I have ever been in my heart. I could argue that all of those places are home. I think the real test is just to make a home wherever you are.

I have always said that you can tell you live in a place when you start to run into people that you know. Today we had a gorgeous sunny day. We walked through China Town and had yum cha for lunch. And in the midst of the chaos of Hay Street, with tourists en masse, trams gliding by, and even a street parade, we ran into people we knew. And suddenly, this big city on the bottom of the world felt like home.