Home and other places

This week, I'd rather like to run off back to the hippy commune and live in a happy crazy beautiful building site.

We had a magical weekend.  Rose Howey is an amazing place.  I really fell in love with the old building, incredible light and oddly shaped rooms (some of them smelling of damp and several piled high with abandoned furniture and builders' rubble).  Turning a corner and finding a stack of old chairs or a pile of very dusty bowls left from goodness knows when.  The community is working hard to bring the place back to life, and that really calls to me.



Especially when back home in my little terrace, the ceiling is inexplicably leaking, and we need to somehow buy floor covering from the bathroom because the tiles we had to take up for work to be done are unsalvageable.  Especially when there are so many worries here about work and money.  Especially when the children keep asking when we can go back and why we can't pack up and move there.

Right now, here feels like home (albeit one I'd like to run away from) and Rose Howey feels like a magical place where I don't fit (but... maybe one day).  A holiday *was* just what I needed though, and time amongst such lovely people was very healing.  I wish it had been a longer stay.  And that home was a bit of an easier place to come back to right now.

In the meantime, at least I have new books.  Cheaper and easier than running away.  :)