Going home...

Sounds basically bonkers but I'm going home tonight. In a few minutes I will be getting into my car with two bopisterous and overly excited boys in the back, Tattie the whippet in front 'cos she likes to see where she is going and so she knows when to duck for all the bridges. The boot will be fit to bursting and Abba will be playing very loudly all the way up the A1. I think at about Grantham I'll be able to change discs without too much upset, a little bit of Robbie, some Jamie and a nice littlwe bit of Pixie and some Snow Patrol will suffice to get me there if not exactly harrassed at least in one piece.
As I drive closer to home the landmarks will become as familiar  to me as the songs I listen to and just as sweet. Thye sky will open up and I will be able to breathe again the familiar scents of my childhood and the endless toing and froing I have done from south to north and north to south over the last 35 years. I'll pass the Rainton Service Station where I once stopped dramatically when my windscreeen collapsed and I was convinced someone had shot at me. I'll wonder fo teh umpteenth time what breakfast is like there and know I'll probably never find out now as I believe the powers that be are going to knock it down to widen that stretch of the A1.
I'll take the next exit and drive down the A61 looking over at Sutton Bank trying to make out the white horse in the day or else at kniogth see if I can spot the hosues that I know. I'll shoot past the cross roads known as Wards Corner where old man Ward used to have his veggie plot long before we came to live here. Then onto the Baldersbu Garden Corner where I did some spectacularl 180 degree turns in the ice at 4  in the morning - not on purpose honest!
And then turning down into the village in the quiet of the night, round the corner at the end and there is home, the light on in my attic room.
Home at last.