Sunday, February 3, 2008

Wanting a home.

I'm not in my right place. I'm not surrounded with my right people. I'm not doing my right thing. All this - not yet.

Before I was out of high school I had moved 12 times. Now I have moved and been moved over 60 times.
I just want one place to be, one place to live and work and be, a place that understands me and knows me and a place that I like. And absolutely no snow.

I want to live in the same place, in the same house until I die. I never want to have to move again. Ever. I want to live and grow old in one place.

There are lots of beautiful and amazing places still to see in the world; France, Scotland, Ireland, Portugal, Indonesia, Japan, . . . but, you know, people are the same everywhere. Customs differ but people's feelings, reactions and dreams are the same the world over and I want an experience I have never had; a home, settledness, steady friendships. I don't want adventure any more. I want dependability, stability and security. Sameness, routine. Up with the sun, dinner at home, Sundays by the pool. I just want to be at home . . . and write about the travels I've had.