"...stood in tears amid the alien corn... "
Love that line. Homesick Ruth, stood in tears amid the alien corn. Keats. Ode to a Nightingale.
Didn’t realize when I studied it at university that one day that line would pop back into my head as I stood in tears amid some alien corn.
Well. Corn, as they know it in northeastern Scotland. More like wheat or barley. Certainly not corn on the cob. Far too cold here.
Of course, for a city girl standing in a field of anything would be alien. Although, there were cornfields in southern California when I was growing up. Way back last century. I remember Mom buying 10 ears for a dollar. Amazing. Now I think it’s a bargain at 1 ear for a pound.
Growing up in the shadow of the 405 freeway, I never imagined myself standing in a field of alien corn, let alone living in a house surrounded by one. But I’ve lived here now for thirty years.
I guess for a city girl to go live in the sticks anywhere might give her a tinge of homesickness. But when it’s a third of the way around the world, in a foreign country, it’s a whole new ball game.
I’ve been here longer than I lived in Long Beach. That just seems wrong somehow. I still call Long Beach, home. But then again, I call Barehillock, home, too.
Anything wrong with two homes? I feel comfortable in both now although – maybe not quite ‘at home’ in either.
The Scots still think I speak with an American accent. The Americans think I speak with a Scottish accent.
So who am I really, deep down inside?
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