A home either welcomes you or keeps the unwelcome away (however, my speculative cooking does the same thing).
It has its own smell, recognizable only by the first inhale and hides in the corners of the brain for later days of nostalgia (some credit febreeze, i credit the fairies that come to my house when we’re asleep & sprinkle it w/ fragrances – that idea is much prettier.).
It has its own sounds and shadows (some creepy and some creepier. Again, i like to blame the fairies. it’s late.).
It offers peace in storms and lies awake to offer company during sleepless nights (let’s just call the fairies Lottie, Dottie and Moe).
So this, my friend, is home (friend. *sigh*).
And although we don’t have all of our things (they’re lost somewhere between ohio and oregon).
and although we have only one finished room (the guest bath below. b/c we’re good to our guests like that. everyone likes a nice bathroom.).
We’re home (come over, use the bathroom, and meet the fairies. Ok, maybe just two of the three work just as well as the others.).