My place and yours

I have been doing more thinking than blogging lately, although I wander through life composing interesting and challenging posts in my head (do you do that too or is it just me???) I have been more involved in 'living' it than 'blogging' it.

There has been a lot of talk of 'homes' lately (... I blame Pip personally!) and I have been unable to play along as I'm too busy thinking about the concept instead. I am a serial house-mover. I moved house 11 times before I was 20. In the past 10 years I have lost track of my different accommodations... many of the temporary,youth hostels, other peoples homes, live-in jobs, in-laws houses... it's too complicated to even try and remember!!!

At last I have settled here and for the first time in longer than I can remember I have stayed for two years this week. That's a record for me!

So if home is where I lay my hat that presents a problem, I couldn't for the life of me think of an object which has been with me more than this period of time. And then, I found it.... and it's the most boring, ugly thing I own. It's something that has been stored in the cupboard in the spare room since I moved in.

It's this....

My backpack.

How dull and dusty can you get?

I got this when I moved to Scotland for Uni back in 2000. And it housed my worldly possessions for 4 years.

Now that is an image not worth blogging about if ever I saw one! But this is one I have been thinking a lot about too...

High winds brought down these nests a few weeks ago and I'm absolutely fascinated by them. At first I was attracted by the pretty Rosella feathers, but then I looked closer...These nests are cleverly made up of bits and pieces of things that have been found round and about my property. See the poly-fill? Red sewing cotton?

And most fascinating of all, look closer still and you will see long, dark hair. On closer inspection you will find some of it comes from the angus cattle in the back paddock. But not all of it.

My house has a seriously old-school water disposal system... that is to say it doesn't have one at all. The water from sinks, showers, washing machine all run into shallow, open, brick drains outside the house walls. open to the air they then run off into the garden or sit and evaporate.

Did you know I have long, dark hair? The same long, dark hair that was plucked from the shower drain, cleverly woven into a home and then dis-entangled by me from this birds nest?

If I am part of this birds home then I think, just like this bird, I have created a home, woven from nothing but myself and some bits and pieces found around the place. I am my home and where ever I lay myself I guess that must be what makes it.