I've been a bit of an idiot this morning I had buttered toast and marmalade for breakfast, not 1 or 2 slices but 4 large. So much for being low carb and bread free! It's a little chilly, one or two degrees above frost level and I need to work out a low carb breakfast that's warming and that I will enjoy. Hmmm!
I haven't much time right now as we have a car for the day and are heading out for lunch. I don't think I'm going to worry about what I eat but I will be sensible. My stomach doesn't like too much food anymore and I'm still a little tender from the chilli irritation.
Catch-up later and I'll do my best to describe our eating out experience ... my way. I do hope we find a place I really like as this is a special treat for us.
Today there were no food treats worth mentioning. The coffee was bitter and the savoury muffin filled with yummy looking veges was bland. I sabotaged myself first thing and the day continued along the same lines. I can expect to struggle tomorrow. I am now rather tired and since there is nothing special to say except I think I am homesick and that I am feeling really stupid about eating so badly today.
I can't believe I'm homesick. I felt ready to go home a few days ago but we have to wait as our flights are booked for Tuesday morning, 2 more days. I love being with family but there is not the comfort and convenience of home. I feel silly being homesick. Only kids get homesick! I never experienced homesickness as a child or even as a teenager at boarding school, at least nothing I can identify as homesickness. The first time I experienced being homesick was about 10 years ago when TWJ and I were on our first adventure in the Old Purple Bus. We decided to explore North of Auckland for 3 or 4 months. This was to be our shake-down trip for permanent living in a bus-home. In the 6th week away I went a little loopy and poor TWJ copped an earful big-time. I walked off, taking a solitary route along the beach we were staying at. After many tears and strange, often ugly hysterical thoughts it dawned on me that I was missing my church family. I felt dreadfully lonely. I had only been part of this group a few years but they had become a very special part of my life. I was shocked by this revelation. Over the past few years I've been weaned away from them to stand on my own feet. I still love them to bits and would like to see them more often but life has moved me away and I have learned to live with the change.
This time it is our little house at Matarangi and our routines around living there. We've not been away 3 weeks this time and I recognise the feelings that are stirring up within. It's really weird. I didn't know that place had become my home until these feelings began to overwhelm me. I have treated that little house at Matarangi with contempt. It was not what I would have chosen to live in. It was supposed to be an 'investment property' and be resold before now. I am grateful for it but consider it our temporary abode while we live out this period of my mother's final years but it has got under our skins and has become home. Obviously my heart has ideas that my head is slow to catch up with.
I wonder if I will ever know myself let alone understand myself. Who would believe that after 70 years well lived there are still many adventures in self discovery?