My four-year old great niece lives in Mission, in a nice rural area, close to the bush and mountains. There are horses in her neighbourhood, dogs and chickens. So when she came to visit at Christmas, it was kind of a big deal.

After coming up the elevator, walking down the hall and being presented with our home, she said with a tone of you’re-not-fooling-me-one-bit, “What kind of house is this?”

She’s right of course. Houses have yards and you can walk out on to real ground from your front door.

Instead, I look out our windows and can watch all the pod-people going about their lives. There’s the guy right across and down one floor who clearly has been ordered to only smoke on the little deck. There is the woman who opens and closes her fridge a zillion times each morning and night. I think she must be a great cook.

There are the two little boys who jump on the bed each morning while their mother gets them dressed, and the apartment, one tower over from us, where the gargantuan TV is never, ever off; actually, that describes quite a few places.

But I love it here. It’s a complete contrast to our Sunshine Coast life, which I also adore.

There are a few differences beyond the obvious. On the Coast I can shake out my rugs. In Vancouver? Not a chance. I think there’s a bylaw on flinging your dirt from one’s eleventh floor balcony.

At our Sechelt home, I can break off a branch and some other greenery from my yard or down the trail or street and bam! I’ve got a nice vase full of nature. In the city? They kind of frown on breaking branches in the park. And anything green? It’s a park.

In the city I can walk 10 minutes to the library that’s open until 9 pm. In Sechelt, I have to drive and the opening hours keep getting cut to a barely functional level.

In the city I walk around the corner and have a ridiculous abundance of groceries and coffee and magazines and people of every nation walking about.

On the Sunshine Coast, I walk and meet all my dear neighbours, watch the eagles, notice if the sea lions are hanging around and pet a few dogs while on my way to get some pretty fine groceries.

In both places, I have friends that I miss the minute I’m in the other location. This, I know, is a fabulous problem to have.

They say that home is where the heart is.

Good thing I’m a Gemini.