Lorna’s Gin-spiring Prompt #9 – Home #Ginspired

The lovely Lorna over at Gin & Lemonade With A Twist Blog has started a new writing prompt.

She hasn’t named her challenge, so I have – Lorna’s Gin-spiring Prompt!

Gin-spired

This week, we have the word: Home

Home.

That’s where the heart is, isn’t it?

Where is my heart?

A huge part of it is here, where I am right now, sitting in the first home we bought together as a couple. The first home for our family.

But then, when I go to visit my parents, I always say I am going home for the weekend, or however long.

Because home isn’t a specific place.

It’s a thought.

it’s a feeling.

It’s love.

 

https://ginlemonade.com/2018/11/04/if-we-were-having-coffee-during-nanowrimo-with-a-writing-prompt/

 

Spidey’s Serene Sunday – Part 180

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“Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.”

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

Thanks, Spidey.

Is it just me, or do others instinctively think of being at their parents’ house as being ‘home‘?

I may be forty+, married with a Hubby Dearest, children and pets of our own, with a roof over our head that is our home, but nothing can beat the feeling of going ‘home‘.

This building I visit, the house that Pops and Mum live in now, has never been the place I grew up in. In fact, they bought it shortly before I became a mother myself.

Yet it is ‘home‘.

Because of the people who live here, the love they have showered upon my brother and me, and the memories they created for us.

Don’t get me wrong, my own little home is a very special place, and when I am back in my normal life, there is nothing better than pottering around in my home.

But coming ‘home‘ is just the best feeling ever ❤

Which place feels like ‘home‘ to you?

Have a peaceful Sunday Peeps ❤

Half Term Is Here! (Stream of Consciousness)

Phew!

It has been a short term so far, but no less exhausting than the 7/8 week ones we experienced before Christmas so this week break was welcomed.

The cold weather doesn’t help, but hopefully, the weather-induced downs will subside soon!

I had it all planned…

Initially, we planned to spend the week with my parents…  I could spend time with them and relax, recharge batteries… then all sorts of other plans and prebooked events cropped up!

So no long drive, and instead, the week would consist of me ferrying kids to places, but there would be plenty of writing time to… maybe that WIP would become a completed first draft!

But no… things aren’t ever that simple, are they?!

The trip back home was long overdue, so Hubby Dearest said I should fit it in, even if only a couple of days… meaning that we are apart for Valentines this year…😪 But then, isn’t it really just a commercialised day, when, in fact, we can celebrate our love every day? And it’s worth the sacrifice to spend time with my Pops and Mum.

So, instead, the week has so far consisted of, and will continue with…

  • Birthday dinners
  • Bit of pampering (Nails, etc)
  • Friend’s birthday party (and some alone shopping time for me!)
  • A day in (today), as my car is out for service and MOT (another expense that wasn’t needed in February, with all the family birthdays too!)
  • Taxi service for indoor cricket training (Lil Man)
  • Charity shop visits to find some bits and bobs for Nursery
  • A sleepover for Lil Princess
  • Driving home for 2 days
  • A mega birthday for Lil Princess who will turn to double digits soon!
  • A single Sunday free from any planned activities before the school term starts again on Monday!

PHEW!

See!

No… where is the writing time in all that???? And I need to catch up on sleep too!!!

It’s Monday, and 9.30am as I type this.

I’ve been up since 6am, getting the car ready for pick up so it can be serviced, tidying up the kitchen, doing laundry, seeing off my working Hubby, occupying kids, paying megabucks for the car (whoever wanted a Mercedes? Dang expensive cars!), reading blogs… I feel like I’ve already done a day’s work!

Can I go back to bed?

Home…?

Where is your home?

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British Skies

I am not talking about the bricks and mortar that you spend the night in, where you have your family of friends living with you.

I mean where are you from, really?

A little scene I saw on a TV programme earlier made me think.

A Sri Lankan comedian, Romesh Ranganathan, was travelling around America and was entered into a chilli/hot food eating contest, and the cameraman was surprised that he found it so hard. Ranganathan asked him why he thought that he would have been ok eating pure chilli and the other guy couldn’t really answer. Because he assumed that being brown skinned meant being immune to the properties of all the chillies and spices in the whole world.

The thing is, Romesh was born and brought up in the UK, in Crawley. Not in Sri Lanka.

And the same goes for me. Born and brought up in Birmingham, in the UK, I abhor chilli. Spice, I can cope with, but not hot food! I will often add to my introduction of myself that I am a bad Indian, as I can’t eat hot food!

But how Indian am I?

Genetically I am 100% Indian, born to Indian parents, but they were born in Kenya. So are they Indian or Kenyan?

Similarly, am I Indian, Kenyan, or British?

If someone was to shout out to me to go home, back to where I came from, do they mean I should leave the Garden of England, in Kent, and scurry off, tail between my legs, back to Birmingham? Or are they referring to my skin, and telling me to go back to whatever South Asian country I obviously came from?

Thing is, to me, my home is here. In Great Britain. I have grown up for the last 40 years with the same influences around me as the average ‘English’ 40 year old. We watched the same TV, went to the same schools, drank at the same pubs, danced at the same clubs…

Granted I had rather colourful family orientated weekends, due to all our various celebrations and get togethers, but that only added flavour to the Ritu that I was.

I could probably bet that there are many white skinned British folk who have eaten more curries than me. My mum was never one of those Indian mummies who always had a pot of curry on the boil… Yes we ate traditional Indian food, but not that often. We would even eat certain Kenyan foods like Ugali, a steamed corn bread with spinach or chicken. In fact if you ask me, my favourite dinner is a good old Roast Lamb with mint sauce, complete with roasties, Yorkshire puddings, veg and lashings of gravy!

In my car you’ll find CD’s ranging from Brit Pop to Bollywood, the Swinging Sixties to Soul, Bhangra to The Beatles. Eclectic, but it’s a reflection of me heritage, and growing up.

At home, I lounge around in my trackies and hoodie, not a Punjabi salwar kameez.

And I know that everything seems better after a good old cuppa tea. (But that goes for British, and Indian values!)

But it still doesn’t change where my home is.

Happiness Tinged with Regret. ..

It’s Friday, yay!!!!
We’ve had a lovely time at my parents. And even extended our stay by one day, as Hubby Dearest suggested it… 2 nights flew by and he knows how important my parents are to me.
Bless him!

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But you know we can’t have everything and much as I love being here, the kids and I miss Daddy and Sonu Singh too!

So it’s time to pack our bags and get ready to drive that looooong journey home.

We’ll be back in another county by around lunchtime.

Then I’ll be sat at home missing Pops and Mum!
I can’t win!!!!!

But then, maybe I already have…

Just yesterday I spoke with my best friend  and sister from anotha mista after months… we don’t see each other much or even speak much nowadays because of life… but 110% we are there for each other.

The fact that I have places to go, family that cares,  people I love.

Of course I won! They’re the ones that give me peace of mind and the strength to continue, even in the face of adversity.

We don’t all need money and material possessions to have won the game of life. Having people who care about you, people always there for you, that’s winning 🙂

Have a wonderful Friday Peeps! I’ll catch ya when I’m back home!

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