Without the two cats in the yard. Which is not very Colorado of us, as my family reminds me weekly. But we’ve had cats and well, we don’t anymore. To be fair, they keep asking me to agree to adopt a dog. I have many reasons why I’ve declined. But that might sour this sweet little story about ‘home.’
What makes your house a home? Other bloggers are writing about their home experiences in the Live a Little blog prompt with Skimbaco.
The first thing that popped into my head is a favorite song by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, which lent itself to become my post title. I stop in my tracks whenever I hear it, like the other day while I worked a shift at Eddie Bauer. I saw other customers singing along, so I know it has the same effect on others. It simply makes me happy.
That’s how I feel about my home. The people, the stuff inside, makes me happy. I’ve chosen them, well, okay, my husband. The kids are our blessings – and the things on the walls, in the baskets, in each room – I’ve chosen them all very carefully. Some items have been gifts, which also makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Yes, even on the days when it is cluttered or I’m mad at them or more likely, they’re mad at me (mean mom syndrome).
A good friend and her husband are closing on their dream home this week. They hope it is the last home they will ever own. Not that they plan on going anywhere. They’ve build it ‘just right.’ Like the baby bear in the Goldilocks fable.
I vlogged about a profound moment, during a dark time in my life when I had to leave one of my homes. My mom gave me the best feedback I could have heard at the time.
As I look around the room, I know she was right. Moms have a way with words sometimes.