Non fiction writing
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Home is where the heart is
As Dorothy said in the Wizard of Oz, “there’s no place like home”. L Frank Baum was very right when he wrote this. You cannot beat your own environment with your own belongings and beloved nik-naks. The times that I have been away, whether for a weekend or a week, I have always been relieved to get home.
Before I met my husband, I lived alone for a few years in my own flat. The experience of living alone was lovely. I could do what I wanted when I wanted to. I could spend all day in bed, I could eat in bed, I could walk around naked, I could bath with the door open. I could put music on and relax in the bath with a glass of Lambrusco light, any stronger and I was really quite ill. I could go for a drive at midnight and I could talk to friends to early hours of the morning, then arrive at work the next day after just a few hours sleep. I really should have treasured these years whilst I was living them. Why didn’t I? I was too busy worrying about what might not happen. The worrying was for nothing as a few years later I met my husband and now have my children that I worried I would never have.
The silence of my flat and the knowledge that it was up to me if I read all evening or put the soaps on. I went through months of leaving the television off, and worked my way through the works of Dean Koontz and Stephen King, laying on my beloved red settee which now lives outside in our cold summerhouse covered in kids toys.
My life has completely changed now with our three-bed semi-detached house, a husband, two kids, and a garden. If you are reading this and right now live alone, treasure it, as all too soon you meet a man that completely changes your world. Then your life becomes forever busy and your time is not your own. You are suddenly not only doing your own washing but washing little clothes too and deciding on cloth or disposable nappies. (Somewhere I have a photo of my cloth nappies on the washing line but that was in 2015 and I can’t find it right now.)
Your relationship takes on a whole new phase as you are now mummy and daddy. You long for bedtime as this is the only time when the house is really quiet. There may still be times that you bath with the door open if you forget to lock it and a child walks in. However, you will often now find that you have an audience when using the toilet. If I want to be guaranteed no audience, I know I have to go to the bathroom and lock the door. The downstairs toilet does not lock and the kids will often just walk in. Even for things like wanting toast. They can’t just wait until I am finished.
Unless your children enjoy tidying up, your house changes from organised mess to complete mess. I cannot keep up with them, everywhere I look there are abandoned toys. The number of times we have asked them to tidy after themselves. They don’t and why should they? They are 5 and 7 and they have mummy to do it for them. We need to either move house, build an extension, or just accept this is it. There is no space to accommodate everything and I am useless at parting with old toys especially if they are still played with occasionally. I dream of having a playroom where we could put it all.
Despite the mess and noise though, I would not change it. This house is our mess, our clutter. It is our home, not a palace. I’m sat typing this and I should be tidying the kitchen, the little voice in my head is telling me to get my priorities right. The truth is I could spend my day tidying, but by bedtime there will be a mess again. The postman does not help when he delivers junk mail that then needs to be shredded or looked at. That’s in the “will look at later pile”, really not good.
There are afternoons when I work from home and I am glad I can. Despite everything, my home is my happy place. The times when I am here alone and can appreciate the silence and everything around me. My stuff, my belongings, I am grateful for what I have got. Plus working from home means my kettle and the tea and coffee are right in front of me and I don’t get disturbed so I can be productive which is a good feeling.
So in the words of Roman Philosopher, Pliny the Elder, “Home is where the heart is” meaning that a person’s love, affection, and fond memories will be tied to the place that they live. Or Elvis Presley’s well-known song and version of home.
This was in response to Lorna’s word prompt of Home on her blog Gin and Lemonade.
If We Were Having Coffee During NaNoWriMo With A Writing Prompt
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The worst road trip we have ever had
We had had a good holiday, it had been a busy week. All the excitement and all the planning was now over. We were leaving behind the beautiful Yorkshire Dales, the fresh air, the lush green hills and mountains. The last week was now just a memory and it will be a long time before we return. The journey is about 300 miles, we are now in no hurry to return and our next holiday will be closer to home.
The drive to Yorkshire had been a mostly happy one. We stopped at service station’s which the kids found fun. They both had a good week and were well behaved for most of it, the experience of time away in a Pine Lodge with a bubbly hot tub was something special. It was October half term and the heat in the hot tub in the evening was amazing.
You may be wondering if the journey there was good? The holiday memorable, why are we not going back soon despite the distance? Well the holiday memory was tainted by my lovely 5 year old, then only 4, driving home. For breakfast before we started our journey she had had blueberries on her cereal. You may be thinking, that’s a nice healthy breakfast. Well it is, but when you are about 50 miles into your journey with another 250 miles to go, you don’t want to hear vomiting, then your 6 year old screaming and your 4 year old crying. Guess who got the blame for her being sick? Yes, it was me because I was driving, the stress started there. I pulled over on to the hard shoulder and got her out of the car. I mopped the blueberry of her as best as I could, blueberry is not nice regurgitated. Then proceeded to try and clean the seat, she then needed a wee, so I helped her do that at the side of the road. Then putting a towel around her and the car seat, I lifted her back in. My 6 year old meanwhile had decided to get out of the car, despite being told to stay where he was. As he opened his door there was a crash and there was his drink bottle now smashed by the car. Not a good start to such a long journey.
Once all back in the car, daddy had decided he was driving, because of course she won’t be sick if he is driving. A while later there was a cry of,
“I need the toilet” as we went flying past a service station in the fast lane, too late, we had to carry on. When we eventually got to a service station and got everyone out we found that she had wet herself. I then had to go hunting in the suitcases, for knickers and leggings and do my best with her car seat. After using the facilities, we continued our journey. There was soon the sound again of more vomiting, more blueberry goo, then more crying. We stopped at the next service station, cleaned her up and changed her top. We had a few more incidences of blueberries reappearing and more wet knickers. I regretted not putting a nappy on her, but she has been dry during the day since she was 2. However, on such a long journey where you cannot relieve yourself easily I should have foreseen a problem.Lunchtime was another argument, daddy wanted Burger King, mummy had made sandwiches. Didn’t help that we parked in a Burger King car park to eat our dinner and we appeared to be the only people that stayed in the car, apart from using their toilets. The fact that our 4 year old was being car sick, I really didn’t want regurgitated Burger King in the car, she really would have cried at that and the smell of burger would have been awful.
The journey felt like it lasted hours, we had changed her leggings and knickers three times and her top, I think, twice. The fragrance of blueberries, sick and urine remained in the car and daddy drove the remaining 300 miles home. Our plan had been to share the driving, but the car sickness and the wet knickers added a lot of stress to the journey and the number of times that we missed service stations when we needed them also didn’t help.
I have memories of the Yorkshire Dales as a child, happy memories of staying in a cottage and climbing the Yorkshire Three Peaks, Pen-y-ghent, Whernside and Ingleborough. Pen-y-ghent I would run up and Whernside I ran into a peat bog and will never forget it. I doubt that I will ever walk up them with our kids, unless daddy decides that he will do the journey again. It will be along time I think before he does and I don’t think I could manage the long drive alone.
As we came over the Dartford bridge back into Kent we all cheered, we were nearly home. My daughter had now stopped being sick, I think also relieved that we were so close now to home. Our first stop before getting home was Morrisons for Zoflora, to help make the car smell fresher. When home, the priority was to just rest and relax, after spraying the car and car seat. I think I unpacked the suitcases the next day. Most of the clothes were clean as had been washed in the machine in Yorkshire. The blueberry and urine-soaked clothes went straight in the machine along with a few other items.
The children still have happy memories of our holiday and told their friends at school about the hot tub. For them the bubbly hot tub was the highlight, not the castles and beautiful scenery or the pine lodge. My daughter does still eat blueberries but is not as keen on them now as she was a year ago. I guess once something makes you sick you go off them, this is why I am no longer keen on doughnuts or raspberry yogurt! too much of something is often not good. Thankfully the disastrous journey has not traumatised my daughter too much and I’m sure the next time we do go on holiday she will be excited about it, however long the journey.
This post was in response to Lorna’s prompt for this week, Roadtrip, over at her blog, Gin & Lemonade
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Visit to Thorp Perrow Arboretum, Yorkshire -26th October 2017
During Halloween last year, we were on holiday when myself and my daughter, then 4 years old, visited Thorp Perrow Arboretum, https://www.thorpperrow.com/
It was more than we were expecting. If you happen to live near Bedale, or on holiday, it is worth a visit especially at Halloween. The grounds are beautiful, and my daughter really enjoyed herself. It was a good day, one of the best of our holiday.
Due to it being Halloween they had a very special event on. I thought my 4 year old would be scared but she thought that the theme was fun and had a fixed smile.
The skeleton’s, ghost’s and ghoul’s were set on a special trail in the woods. The atmosphere was exciting and magical.
As well as the Halloween theme, there are beautiful grounds which are amazing. The bird of prey display, which was brilliant. My daughter got a bit restless during it so we did not watch it all. There are also Wallabies and ducks amongst other animals.
For the children at the end of the trail is an adventure playground. Thorp Perrow Arboretum is a good family day out and if we are ever near Bedale again, I will not hesitate to revisit. We seemed to walk miles around the grounds and my little girl did not complain once as there was so much to see. We were lucky to visit during Halloween as it made it a very special day for the two of us and I will not forget it.
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