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This year so far, I have spent a total of about ten weeks at home, a lot of it in transit and preparation for the next departure. Now I’m at home – for two days this time! I feel a bit demented – both because I’m doing all this bopping around, and as a result of doing it.
I won’t see my Warsaw grandchildren now for eight months, when they will visit me briefly at Potato Point. They’ll be very different again by then, not least because they start pre-school after the northern summer break. I won’t see my beloved second daughter or my mischievous and dishy son-in-law either, but they probably won’t change as much.
My trajectory in six months? A city on a river in a very foreign country, the tropics in northern Queensland, back to the Polish city, a familiar seaside village, an even smaller village in the granite belt in Queensland / northern NSW, maybe Broken Hill in the desert country of western NSW … and the sandstone belt near Rylstone in the central tablelands of NSW .. And then …?
I wonder whether I will ever settle back into my sleepy routine at Potato Point? And does it even qualify as home any more?
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