I slept until 4:30PM today. Oops! Guess I’m a wee bit jetlagged.
Liz called after I’d been up for a little while, suggesting a picnic on the lawn by the Scottish Parliament, near the craggy, grassy volcanic hill, Arthur’s Seat. My initial inclination was to stay at home and try to recover something of a day, but the honest truth was that it was shot; I couldn’t get any work done at this point. I’m really glad I went: it was the Friday Gang, assembled for a lovely meal on blankets on what I understand is the first proper summer evening here. Everyone was in clever, funny form, and I was reminded why I love these people and am happy they are my friends.
I’ll post my Canada pictures soon, once I’ve dealt with the mountain of papers and receipts and notes I brought back with me. In the meantime, though, suffice it to say that I’ve really absorbed the lesson that I don’t have to make a choice about where home is. I have ‘home’ in Canada and in Scotland. It’s about love and belonging, and I get that all over the place.
Walking with Patrick past the castle this evening, then up the Royal Mile, then back home later through the Grassmarket, I got excited: “I get to stay and visit here all summer!” Of course, the even more exciting thought after that one is “I get to stay here, full stop.”