HOME IS WHERE…
my laptop is
In many ways I am a homebody. And yet, I am the first person to whip out a suitcase and get on a plane. I love to travel and wherever I am, I have a habit of trying to make, even a hotel room, a little bit more like a home.
During my time in the UK, the cottage known as #6 (across the street from Nymans, the National Trust Garden, I worked in) was my home, but not quite. The cottage, devoid of personality, is an accommodation for students and visitors. There are no pictures on the walls, the colors are neutral, the furniture anonymous. It’s a place to “hang your hat” and no more.
After three months out of the country, my own apartment was eerily familiar. Every piece of furniture painstakingly chosen, every glass and plate selected for its color and shape. It’s home in the city. It was a curious and surprising feeling, not to feel at home in the cottage and not yet feeling at home in my own apartment.
I did find the one place I felt at home: my little laptop. As horrifying a thought as this is, my laptop was the place I was connected to. That silver rectangle with the apple on top was my bridge between two worlds. There is no place like home, but sometimes home can take on a whole new meaning.
This is the last blog in a series that started on June 18th when I arrived in the UK to begin my
Royal Oak Foundation Fellowship in Sustainable Gardening.