I re-made my decision to move back to the States a couple weeks ago. And since then, I’ve been more homesick than ever. Maybe not more homesick than I was when I first got here, but definitely homesick in a different way. I need to be home. I want to be home. I miss home. I miss the ease of being in America. The comfort of friends that know a me I think I’ve forgotten sometimes. The easiness of hanging out and not having to explain, or analyze, or think. It’s overwhelming sometimes, the need to be at home. To live in my house again, with my things, which are waiting patiently for me in storage. To not just exist in this room, in this town, in this country.

But I’m torn, because I’m also spending everyday thinking about all that I’ll miss when I leave here. Each trip I take now is bittersweet. Is this the last time I’ll be on a South Coast beach? The last time I’ll have takeaway fish and chips by the crashing waves? The last time I’ll drive over Clyde Mountain? The last time I’ll arrive in Brisbane airport? The last time I’ll set up this tent in this hemisphere? The last road trip I’ll take. I feel like I’m trying even more to soak it all in, to make sure that this song, this view, and this feeling gets emeshed somehow in my subconscious, so that, when I’m back in Atlanta, I can recall what it felt like to be living in this country and to be doing what I get to do. Even though I’m overwhelmed by work and even though when I sit still for even a minute without a book or a movie or the TV or a friend with me, I collapse into tears… despite needing to be home, I have fallen in love with Canberra and Australia.

I’ve been here for two and a half years now. In that time I’ve dislocated a shoulder and torn the tendons in my right ankle. I’ve also learned to be a goalie and how to score a goal again, how to ride a bike in a bunch. I’ve completed triathlons of every distance up to Olympic. I’ve gotten fit. I’ve discovered that I love swimming. I’ve bought more sporting gear for my three sports than I ever thought I’d own.

I’ve learned to like the screeching of the cockatoos. I’ve been swooped by a magpie in spring. I’ve identified birds by their calls, especially those that wake me up at 5am in the summer. I’ve been awakened by the laughing of the kookaburra. I look to the Southern Cross winking at me from the night sky for comfort. The 26 of January isn’t just another day in winter, but a day for a sausage sizzle, the radio set on Triple J, and lilos. I know what a lilo is. I drive on the left hand side of the road. Even though I still occasionally try to get into the passenger side of the car to drive, I prefer shifting gears with my left hand. I like sausage sandwiches, I like Carlton, I like Boags. I like schnitzel and sweet chilli and sour cream crisps. I will never like beetroot and egg on my hamburger. I know how to cut a mango.

I’ve cried on the shoulders of some very strong and inspiring women… on my front porch in the dead of winter, on the phone by the dumpster behind work. I’ve been so happy I honestly thought I could fly, and I’ve been so lonely, that I’ve not been able to see. I’ve been to the funeral of a friend I knew for a year, and think about her almost every day.

I know what it means to frock up; how to set a pretty good morning tea; how to serve pavlova; how to pick olives; how to help alpacas breed. I’ve walked the Overland track in the World Heritage Area of Tasmania. I’ve walked through the rainforest in the Daitree; snorkeled on the Great Barrier reef. I’ve walked around Uluru, seen the sun rise and set on her, and stared at her for hours. I’ve been to southernmost lighthouse in NSW; I’ve been to the most gorgeous beaches on the Southern Ocean in Margaret River. I’ve been to every capital city in Australia, some more then three times. I’ve seen a show in Sydney, watched fireworks from the Opera House. I’ve shopped in Brisbane. I’ve swum in an outdoor pool in downtown Toowoomba.

I’ve held a wombat. I’ve held a koala. I’ve seen a wild camel in the desert between Alice Springs and Yulara. I still get excited to see kangaroos less than a kilometer from my house in Canberra. I think in kilometers now, rather than miles. I think in liters rather than gallons. I like the colorful, plastic-y money. I love the $2 coin.

I’ve lived in another country. Full stop.

And now it’s time to go home. Even though I will probably miss every bit of this place every day when I am home.

whew!

So it hit 40 degrees in Canberra this weekend... well, that was what was predicted, and even though I didn't see a thermometer at any point yesterday, I'm willing to bet we hit 40. It's hot. So I spent yesterday afternoon in a kiddie pool at a friend's barbecue... in my dress. Very classy. :) I felt a bit like the koala in the previous post - just relieved to not be actually melting away.

Today I'm indoors, hanging out at the mall... luckily it's a very nice mall. I'm going to be here all afternoon and with luck I won't go home with too much stuff!

Heatwave!

It's been over 40 degrees celsius (104 F) in South Australia and Victoria the last couple of weeks, with lots of records being broken.

This is a kangaroo's solution (Adelaide, SA):



I think he's going all the way to Tassie - he's clearly had it!


And a koala that found refuge in a bucket of water put out by a kind family in Victoria:





And another way to keep cool (SA):