"...we part with tender relations stretching far behind us, that never can be exactly renewed..."
Very nice. I can almost taste the butter. And i love your description of home
rdl,
Good to see you come by. Thanks for sharing how you responded to my work.
Scot
It's always good to be walking to somewhere, sugar. That feeling of home is a feeling that is irreplaceable. I've been many places in my life, but I've never wanted to live anywhere else but Macon.
breasier,
"That feeling of home is a feeling that is irreplaceable." So true, isn't it. Like someone once said to me, you can spend a whole life time looking for the perfect pot and never find it, or you can choose to grow in the pot you're in. Even still, I guess it takes some of us awhile to realize that. Thanks for coming by. Your visits are always appreciated.
Scot
very provocative, and a piece that has left me thinking about my own feelings about "home" and what it is. I'm an Army Brat---you never get over it---and I fully expected to move every 18 months at the least for the rest of my life. I came here to Ottawa as part of a plan to make a new beginning for myself, and lo and behold, I'm still here 32 years later. And I'm still afraid to call it home, in case It lets me down somehow...
Lorna,
Your comment says a lot about how we sometimes find "home" by simply choosing to stay put. Thanks for sharing your perspective,
Scot
I don't think I've found that plot of earth to call my home yet. Maybe I never will.
But I think the important thing is that I maintain the search for as long as it takes.
Mojo,
Good to see you check in. I wish you well as you maintain your search. Sometimes it is hard to say exactly where we would like to be.
Scot
Hello, my thoughtful Scot, analyzing what makes him tick, doing the mathematic of his deep attahcment to his home. How well that tone draws from your opening premis of I’m never sure whether I’m supposed to be completely happy or terribly miserable. So It appears you're having none of either one--staying in your head instead I see, but feeling the deepth in quite a different way. 
I enjoyed this piece very much. It shows your breadth as a writer--to go from walking with Grandma to talking with your son to Christmas lights to this. Your voice stays so warm and recognizable, but you reveal such different parts of your character, all genuine, all likeable, all authentically Scot talling of his world.
I very much enjoy knowing the man who lives inside your head, who feeds your cat, who steers you pencil. I'm glad I voted for him last night in the bloggie awards.
Now if only I could type at 7 in the morning. Sorry.
Liz,
Thank you so much. I am humbled by your comment and compliment. In so many ways I feel fortunate to have had you come by that first time. Since then I feel the commentary between us in regard to our writing has helped both of us stive to put forth our very best. It goes without saying, though, that I do enjoy reading your work equally as well. I am grateful for the confidence and friendship we share with each other in regard to our writing. Looking forward to the rest of the year to come,
Scot
You've made me want to move to Maine!
Since you now have a son in the military, would be interested in your comment on my recent post ...
For American Troops No Treatment No Cure
Wow.
I Love Maine. When you inhaled the smell and called it home you were singing my tune. I'm a painter from coastal Massachusetts (looks & smells quite the same as coastal Maine) and I go to Maine as often as I can to paint. I wrote about this on my blog Not Really A Cleaning Lady :D.
Maine speaks to me of wilderness. The vast ocean and thousands of coastal islands. I just got a gig showing my paintings in Stonington next spring. A great excuse to go back there often!
Like reading your stuff.
Patry,
In so few words, your comment says so much. Thanks for that.
Scot
Euro,
Good to see stop by. As soon as I get settled in, I'll come by for a visit and read.
Scot
marewheeee,
Always good to have a new reader stop by. Stonington is not only a great place for art shows, but it's also a magical place that inspires artists and writers. To get to Stonington requires a drive down the Blue Hill Peninsula. It's absolutely breathtaking, no matter what the time of year may be. You're in for a treat.
Thanks for coming by, and for your kind, thoughful response.
Scot
You talk of roots and this is something I know a little of. I grew up in Africa; 27 years it took me. Yet, when I returned to England, I knew I had returned home. No matter that it waa a very different place from the country that infected my bones and blood from birth - it was my country and the English were my people. They remain so, even though I have departed their shores, probably forever, and know now that the England of my bones and blood is merely a memory in the unconscious minds of my countrymen. The land that is home must always remain so for us and I salute your love for your roots.
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