The Refills

I didn’t realize that going to the TX Roadhouse would be such a cultural experience for Fabian.  I forgot that there are no free refills on drinks in Austria… and no ice in most drinks.  We each ordered a Coke and they came in large cups half full of ice.  We slurped at them while we ate our deliciously huge steaks.  It was a good reward for all of the driving we'd done that day (correction: driving he'd done that day).  As our drinks emptied, our waitress came back and asked if we wanted refills.  I just nodded like we both would, forgetting about the culture difference.  She came back with two big glasses of Coke again.  Fabi's jaw was on the ground.  You mean, we get a whole nother one? for free?  I can't drink this!... I assured him that it was okay if we didn't finish them, they were free.  Oh, this was not okay!  He wasn't about to waste it. He attempted.  He gave it the ol' college try.... and he totally lost.  Even while the ice deceived us as to the actual amount of pop in the glass, neither of us could finish.  The dejected look on Fabi's face made me wish we'd just gotten one refill.  Dang it.  And, it needs to be said, mostly because it was the only thing I ever beat him legitimately at, I drank more of my refill than he did!

The Coke he couldn't finish...

Home.

I’ve been contemplating lately what home means.  My new place hasn’t felt like home.  I’ve put up familiar pictures of recent memories.  I’ve spent time there, cooked there, cleaned there, slept there and yet, it hasn’t felt like home… until this week, until today. What makes home home?

Today topped off a week of letting my dearest friends into this space that I inhabit.  I had tea with them, played Scrabble with them, talked with them on the phone, emailed them, and most recently, chatted with them over an ocean.  They say that “Home is where the heart is” and I’ve never really understood what that even means… I say, “Home is where your heart is not alone anymore.”   I was with them…  I was with the people who have held my hand and hugged me through dank and dismal times.  And now I’m at home, in my new home.