Me and Bilbo Baggins

 "I wish I was at home in my nice hole by the fire, with the kettle just beginning to sing!"

We all know that was not the only time Bilbo wished that, nor would it be the last!  And much like Bilbo, I find that my "I wish" home fantasies to be centered around one or two very precise and specific moments.  Now, I'm sure Bilbo would not always want his kettle to just be beginning to sing; sometimes he'd like to have his tea already in front of him and steaming.  Sometimes he'd rather be outside in the warm Shire sunshine, smoking his pipe and blowing smoke-rings.  Sometimes he'd rather be asleep, warm and cozy in his own bed.  Sometimes he'd rather be eating.

The point is -- that when you are away from home, and away from everything and everyone that you love, your fantasies do tend to gravitate not so much  to the abstract but to one moment in time.  One instance that struck a chord with you and caused you to stand back and think: "This is home.  This is happiness.  Right here."

As my father always used to say at such moments:  "Well Mary, take a picture."

Take a picture.  Take a mental snapshot of this moment -- because you know it damn well will probably never come again, and even if it does, it won't be with these people, at this time.

I wish I was home on my parents' screened-in back porch.  I wish I had a proper gin 'n tonic -- in fact, that I had made proper gin n' tonics for all three of us, the way we like them.  The Papa, Mama, and Baby Bear GnTs, I used to say.  Mine was the Papa, of course.  I wish my Boo was asleep on my lap, Mom was on the loveseat swing and Dad was in his place next to the picnic table, where the breeze from the overhead fan always hit he strongest.  We'd be snacking on crackers and good cheese, and listening to Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion.  Lake Wobegone maybe, or my personal fave -- Dwayne.

I wish I was home in the Raintree House apartment that I shared with Eve and Brad.  We'd have had a massive cookout on my tiny charcoal grill, indulged in banana daiquiris and cosmopolitans, and then settled down to watch the full six hours of the BBC's Pride and Prejudice.

I wish I was home in my apartment in Old Town.  Matt would have brought supper from Balducci's, and we would be settling in to watch some hockey.  Later there would be a Gargoyles drinking game.

I wish I was soaking in a giant tub of bubbles while Ping! reads me e.e. cummings.  "tiny,angels sharpen:themselves (on air)..."

I wish I was playing Candyland and drinking superb wine with Will and Ally.

These moments.  Moments that define us, that give us strength.  These moments that remind us who we are.

And now, I am in Georgia.  It hasn't been all roses.  It's been a giant, un-fun pain in my ass recently, to be exact.  I'm kind of tired of it.  I want to go home.

But I'm here now.  I'm exactly where I wanted to be, learning all those lessons I wasn't sure if I had the strength and patience to learn.  Heh, well, turns out I don't have that strength.  Or the patience.  Definitely not the patience.  Never was my strong suit, that.  But I got myself into this -- a Wizard kicked me in the ass and sent me down this road for a reason.  As much as I want my home and my ice and my people and my comforts, this is where I am.  I worked hard to get myself here.  I have that on Bilbo, at least.

I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here.  But maybe that's okay.

In the immortal words of Jean-Luc Picard -- "Make now always the most precious time.  Now will never come again."

You should always listen to your Captain.