Birdies

We’ve finally got the polka dot birdie hooks up on the nursery wall, which means we can hang Scarlett’s hearts on there.  The birds were really cheap from eBay, but I think they look effective and go with the theme of the room and the wall stickers that are on the other side.

About time too, everything was just gathering dust on her windowsill.  We’ve got even more frames that we need to put photos in, but think I’ll wait a bit because we’ve just had quite a few printed.

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Nursery wall

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I’ve finally got rid of my heinous work of art, and I’ve put up a photo frame that my lovely brother- and sister-in-law got Scarlett when she was born. It’s got 12 photos of her, so I’ll replace them when she’s a year old so that there’s one from each month.  It’s a lovely idea!

It’s a bit smaller than the car crash “artwork”, so we’re going to put some little hooks around or under it and hang some hearts on them to use the space a little better.

I found these polka dot bird hooks on eBay and fell in love with them (I’m finding I have more success buying than selling on eBay at the minute), I thought they look very sweet!

I’ve had this hand and footprint done since Scarlett was five weeks old, and it’s just been sat on her windowsill since then – I can’t wait to put it up on the wall!

Now I know where/when home is

I had a few responses, on here, in person, and on facebook, to the Home is where…? post.

Barry, for one, would like to clarify that when he says he is going home to Northern Ireland, he means the country, but when he’s coming back here, home means our house specifically.

My friend Bryonie, who recently moved to Australia, said she’s not sure where home is now.  But she also introduced me to an expression I hadn’t heard before: you can be homesick for a time, not a place.  I kind of like this because it’s true, but it’s also sad because it’s not something you can ever get back.  Perhaps the fact that I’d like to return to Howden, where my heart is, is just me longing for my childhood.

Home is where…?

According to the adage, home is where the heart is. But can your heart be in more than one place at once?

I was born in Aldershot, but only have hazy memories of the place. After moving around the area for a few years (my parents had various pubs), we moved to Howden for good when I was five. Howden’s a village in East Yorkshire where my mum grew up and my maternal grandparents still live. Although we moved to the neighbouring town of Goole on my tenth birthday, my heart stayed in Howden, and it’s always where I tell people I’m originally from.

Barry’s from Northern Ireland, and if we’re going back there, he says he’s going home (but then he also says we’re going home on the way back!).

Does it have something to do with the house in which you grew up? I was studying abroad when my parents sold the house in Goole, and felt untethered since then really: it’s no longer my home. I suppose when you have children, you truly make a home of your own and hope that they always regard it as such.

Now we live in a village in the suburbs of Bradford, but if we’re abroad we say “near Leeds”. Naughty, I know, but we’re between the two cities so I think we get away with it. I took this photo of Bradford city hall last week, and it actually looks great.

But is it where my heart is? I can’t imagine growing old here. If work wasn’t an issue (i.e., if we won the lottery), I’d move straight back to East Yorkshire – Howden if possible! Barry can come too, if he wants.