Show us a place you love to visit.
I used to be able to say that I was a vagabond, eager to take roads to see where they go, moving cross country, and to different states every year or two.
But now? Not so much. Maybe it's my age, or just maybe, I have found my place, and don't need to wander anymore.
I try not to love inanimate objects, really I do. If they can't love me back, then I can only muster a lukewarm appreciation for the item.
But my home is a different thing. It feels weird, typing the word "home". I never thought I'd find a place to live where I felt AT home - but since July, I have been very much at home here.
Our home is nothing fancy - it's not grand or ostentatious. It's not even particularly roomy...but I like it.
Even though we've been here seven months now, I still find myself walking into a room and thinking, I get to live here. I visit each room, and smile, knowing that it's ours, and I freaking get to live here.
They say that home is where the heart is. My heart has always been in the middle of my chest, all along, but this is the first place I've felt a kinship to.
It's wonderful how my not-so-fancy home is where I want to be most. I enjoy having our monthly family dinners and getting to play with the grandchildren, and watch how the family interacts as we sit after dinner.
I write in my office and glance over at the shelves filled with toys for the grandkids to play with. They come in and trash the place, and despite the chaos that may ensue, I am happy.
I clean far more often than I ever had. I finally, after six decades, have developed some weird sense of pride of ownership. And the monthly family dinners means that I'm guaranteed to clean the house regularly (though I would appreciate some additional help from the male members of the household regarding cleaning up after themselves).
|Home sweet home|
Who am I? What have they done with Kim?
Before you come over for a visit, be sure to check out all the responses to Mama Kat's writing prompts!