A fabulous blog post, says it all xx
There’s something about being at home. Something about returning to a familiar front door, wiping your feet on the mat and about seeing things about you that are yours. The pictures on the wall, the table, the photos on the mantelpiece.
They all add up to making you feel like you are in a place that is right for you. Making you feel at home. Going away, no matter for how long…well, it’s all in the coming home that lifts you. When you are in the arse end of a crap hole somewhere, soaking wet, stinking, filthy, all you want is to be home.
I have done my time of going away when I was in the service, to nice places (hey! I’m the first one to admit 6 weeks in Vegas wasn’t hell…) as well as less nice (a check point in Afghan where I was crapping in a…
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