Home?

I’ve been thinking about the idea of “home” lately, possibly because my short story, “You Get a Line” is included in the recently-published anthology, My Nova Scotia Home. Many of the pieces are non-fiction, but mine is pure fiction. It’s an interesting collection, and each Nova Scotia writer has a unique take on what home means to them.

As always, Pooh is right, and I’m the kind of person who, in a few days or even hours, can be comfy in a lot of different places. Here are some of the places I’ve felt at home in recent years:

Port Joli House, NS
Sandy Bay fish house, Port Joli, NS
Doris McCarthy’s kitchen at Fool’s Paradise, Scarborough Bluffs
Liam and Rachel’s house, Toronto, ON
Cucuron, France (L’hermitage)
Charlie, Horseshoe Lake, Leville, NS
The Wolfville Library
my writing room
Sea Breeze Cottage, Saint Simons Island, GA
Home, Wolfville, NS
the beach, anywhere:)

Home means different things to different people, I suppose. For me, it’s not the house, it’s not the surroundings or landscape, beautiful as they may be. It’s not the stuff I’ve collected over the years, as nice as all those things are, and finding second-hand treasure is so much fun! Of course, I’m grateful for all of this, and try not to take any of it for granted.

 

But, for me, home is the people, these people. Wherever they are, that’s home for me.

my definition of home.

 

Two writers, two weeks in Provence

Market Day at L’Etang, Curcuron, France
Mt. Ventoux & Pont d’Avignon – upon which I did NOT dance (too expensive)
One of those pesky, yet cool, spiral staircases to our Avignon apartment
One of my favs – CRENSHAW (Katherine Applegate) in the Avignon Library – curious title translation…
Beauty and history everywhere
Carousel-watching; not a bad way to spend time
Got to see Deborah Ellis’s Parvana on the big screen – in French! Very good.
Super disturbing photo exhibit in an Avignon art gallery. The photographer spent a year chatting with and taking photos of children of Texan parents who belong to the NRA – the quotes as to why they liked guns were chilling…
Canadian coats (1950s) for sale at a flea market
Young Eastern European woman using her uke to raise money to get to her cave in Spain… everybody has a story
Palais des Papes, Avignon
Jill contemplating how I was going to eat all that fondant chocolat – I did:)
I can always find a Charlie look-alike in my travels…

 

 

 

 

 

or two, this one in the dog park out front of the Louvre.
Les Bories in the Luberon mountains – like field stone igloos. Don’t think I’d like to live in one for very long…
Your next bottle of French wine…

 

 

Love it!
Mistral, resident greeter at the excellent Le Cercle Restaurant in Curcuron, on his way to work
L’hermitage outside Curcuron, definitely worth the climb.
Bonnieux – you can see forever
Terrace sitting – lovely Curcuron.
Biking along medieval streets, along country lanes through fields of grape vines and olive trees; so grateful to spend two whole weeks living in Provence with my good friend, Jill.

Thanks for reading – other than a near-death experience involving me having to slam our rental car into reverse on a twisty mountain road as we came upon an 18-wheeler fully in our lane (to navigate the hairpin turn), we had a great trip!