The Temporary Re-Anglicisation of Emily

Home is where the heart is

Something a wise man might once have said

Wherever I lay my hat, that's my home

Something Marvin Gaye once said

The past week has been a hectic one, getting packed up for our trip to England. This is our second trip home, the first having been for Christmas/New Year last year. We were unable to book an affordable direct flight, so ended up having to bounce via Philidelphia to Manchester.

(Source of map)

We left home at just after midday (ET) to get to the airport in time, but the plane from Raleigh to Philidelphia was about an hour late, then the plane from Philidelphia to Manchester was four hours late. They boarded us about an hour late; sat us on the plane for an hour; un-boarded us and provided complimentary meals at the airport restaurants; then loaded us onto a different plane (the original one had fuel valve problems that they could not fix); then we sat around on the runway for another half hour or so waiting for the weather to clear. Eventually, we took off at midnight -- twelve hours so far and we were only just leaving Philidelphia.

We reached Manchester at midday (BST) on the following day, where we had a lovely couple of days being wined and dined by Mark's sister and her family. We then drove down to Cornwall, where I am now sitting in a cozy little cottage, in an idyllic little village that is fairly close to the sea. We had lunch at a motorway service station and dinner at Ye Olde English Pub.

Our plan is to have a week's holiday (vacation) in Cornwall -- just the family, followed by two weeks of visiting family and friends, then another week's holiday in Shropshire with my sister and her family before flying home.

"Hang on a minute," I hear you ask, "is England home, or is America home?" The answer is that my heart is fairly and squarely in England, but my bed is in North Carolina. I love being home, but I'm sure that by the end of this month I'll be ready for my own bed.