A Home of Our Own

"I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance." 
-Beryl Markham (West with the Night)


I've never really been certain of what the word "home" means. Everyone seems to have their own idea; to some people it means the actual house they grew up in, to others it means the town they've lived in most their life, or where all their family lives. I can't for one moment even share an understanding with those three ideas of home because I've lived in seventeen different houses, ten cities, four countries and my family and friends are strung out over several cities, states, sometimes countries as well as they themselves are always moving to a new place. Home is where your heart is? My heart is always in more than one place, in more than one person. My heart is in Manila, it's in Estero, in Gainesville, Jakarta, Boracay, Buffalo, Des Moines, King, Raleigh, Timaru, Christchurch, in the little lake by Twizel, on the edge of the Kawarau Bridge. Is Home where my memories lie perhaps? Dispersed throughout special places in the world that safely keep the moments I spent there suspended in time, waiting for me to relive them? 


One of my best friends, Emily, has lived in the same house all her life and that house is her Home. Her old barbies are still in boxes in the closet and all her childhood memories of playing in her forest and on her playground are still there for her to relive at any moment. I've spent a lot of time at her house in the eight years I lived in Florida and it always felt homey to me, knowing that she had grown up there. I can't exactly picture in my head a little Emily running around the front yard years ago like I can picture her daughter Gracey doing today, but I find comfort in the fact that she did and that she can walk on the same ground that her muddy, three year old feet had. Sometimes I wonder what that would be like, not envious of the feeling or sad in any way, just curious.


If I went back to our big backyard in Urbandale, Iowa and walked on the same ground my three year old feet had walked on, what would I feel? Would everything look smaller? Would the sandbox still be there? What if I rode my bike down Pasay Road in Dasmariñas Village where I grew up in Manila? Would the trees still make a giant canopy above me? Would I still be able to find my way to the park where you could get bubble gum for one peso and coca-cola in a bag? What would that feel like? Would there be a timeless 90's Third Eye Blind song playing in the background of my memories or would I just hear the horns of Jeepneys? And what about Florida? I don't remember a whole lot from high school, it must not have been very life changing for me, but I do remember my sixteen year old self driving my bug out on Corkscrew Road with my little brother or a friend and discovering off beaten paths that lead to quarries and streams and wild boar tracks. Are they still there? What happened to the fields of orange trees? Would there still be film canisters in every purse and bag and pocket I had? A camera by my side? The humid, Florida air dripping sweat down the bathing suit that seemed to always be worn beneath my clothes. What would I feel if I went back there? The passion, heartache and freedom of age sixteen? Would I hear The Format blaring from my bug's speakers? Smell the faint scent of the occasional black and mild? Maybe home for me does just consist of a whole lot of memories from my particular home of the time, but at this moment in life I'm not sure that I'll ever really know. And that is okay with me, because right now, Home is the South Island of New Zealand and I would be a fool if I wished to be anywhere else.


I've been thinking about all this a lot lately as Josh and I have just moved for a second time in the two months we've lived in NZ together. We are finally in a place of our own -well, not technically, we're just renting -but it kind of feels like a place of our own. It's a little three bedroom house in the country, the only sounds are the cows in the pasture next to us, the train that comes by a few times a day & the occasional car on our country road. Oh, and the pitter patter of four little Asher paws, of course. I've always wanted to live in the country so we thought we'd give it a try. Our backyard looks out to cow pastures and farmland and beyond that, snow-capped Southern Alps. Needless to say, it's beautiful. The town it is nearest to has 4000 people and we're still only a 25 minute drive from Timaru, also a small town of 27,000. This is new for me, a brand new change and so far I'm loving it. We both are. Plus, since we don't really have neighbors in any close distance, we could run around our paddock butt-naked and only the cows would be able to judge us. 


In the short amount of time we have lived here, we've had two days of snow, two mice in mousetraps, three glorious days of 60+ºF (16+ºC) weather and as Josh and I love noting, the mountains always look different every day. I am going to stop talking (I say that but I'm probably going to write another paragraph) and let the photos roll, but let me explain a little about the photos you're about to see. I think the most important part about moving into a new place is finding your favourite things about that new place right away. Moving is difficult for most people, it can be strange, confusing and lonely and sad. For me it usually involves all of the latter plus curiosity, surprise, happiness and comfort. For some strange reason, cardboard boxes and suitcases sitting in the empty rooms of an alien house is very comforting to me. Nevertheless, I have come to find that it's best to discover your favourite places in the new abode and photograph them immediately. As you upload or develop the photos, you notice how beautiful the light can be at that time of day, or how if you moved the book case a few inches over to the side, you would feel more at ease in that specific room. It seemed kind of pointless for me to take photos of our actual house (also a bit creepy), so I took photographs of my favourite spots -most of them windows. The way the light hits Josh's old couch looks very 1960's-ish and I kind of love that (as well as our awesome new couch pillows). The way the light comes in through the drapes in every room of this house makes me feel like I'm living in another time, an older time. Not only that, but we are finally able to put our own little touches to this place that no one else would probably enjoy. Josh and I pride ourselves on our light saber that proudly sits on our mantel and Star Wars pancake molds happily hanging on the kitchen wall, but let's be honest, who else would? Well, I suppose a few of you would and you each have a very special place in my heart.


Funnily enough, this house is actually for sale by the owners so we may not be living here for very long. It could be a couple months up to a year. But let's face it, we'll be restless for somewhere different by Christmas. 


 Below are some photos of our new (but very old) house and a few awesome photos of Asher. Okay, so most of the photos below are of Asher but our little sharky is our pride and joy and I doubt you'll complain to cute puppy face photos. 

daddy and puppy in the beautifully lit living room

I really dislike this couch, but I love how our awesome kiwi pillows look on it.

hubby

Josh & Asher being adorable

If this photo doesn't make you want to bury your face in her soft puppy ears, then you might want to question your personality.

baby girl

beautiful light in our reading room/guest room.

the force is always with us in the kitchen.

these windows remind me of a jane austen novel.

last week's snowy window

this photo and the one below it contain two painted scrolls that I got in China when I was ten years old. I love them and they look perfect in this old house.

our book shelves full of great novels as well as Josh and I's journals, carefully watched over by my favourite painting by Heironymous Bosch. 

one of our many world maps. this one hangs above our bed...although right now we are sleeping in the only heated room in the house -the lounge.

Grandma Naomi's painting that I painstakingly packed ever-so-carefully so that I could bring it to NZ. It hangs proudly above our light saber on the mantel in the lounge. All that's missing is a fantastic, wooden frame. We're on the look out.

this is the view from our big paddock behind the house. On a clearer day, the mountains are seen better.

last week's snow!

Asher loved it

in our paddock

an old, peculiar rusted swinging love seat that sits out in the paddock. 

the rest of these are cute Asher photos, prepare yourself