We're home and I don't know what the words are, the feelings are all jumbled up inside me. I'm hoping it's the jet lag. We've travelled far over the past few weeks and our eyes and hearts and minds have been wide open. We've covered some serious ground and been inspired like never before.
And now after 30 hours of travel door to door, we're home. After delayed flights, four crappy movies, a vomiting child, awful plane food and losing seven hours of time, here we are.
After breaking all the jet lag recovery rules and sleeping through most of the day I woke up this afternoon and felt ghastly. Sort of shaky and unbalanced. Like I'm not over there anymore, but I'm not really here yet either.
I wandered around the house. I tried to sit down and knit the last eight rows of my cardi, I tried to focus on the movie the girls were watching and I tried to think about considering unpacking. But I just felt lost.
Until someone asked for some rocket and tomatoes for their feta toast. And that forced me into my boots and jacket and out of the house.
And lucky for me my farmer boy came too.
And as we wandered and weeded and picked and washed, we remembered.
Vegie gardening is ace!
The thrill of seeing how big the seeds we planted three weeks ago have grown, the smell of freshly picked coriander and rocket, the excitement of discovering red tomatoes amidst the jungle of green, pulling up bunches of colourful carrots, admiring the flowers - both the planted ones and those of vegies gone to seed and the feel of the last minutes of sunlight on our skin. With our hands in the soil, for the first time in days our feet were on the ground.
This coming home bit feels a bit icky, but we'll be ok.
Our home is where the five of us are...and where our kitchen garden grows.