Mostly I find home when I forget all about catalogs and design and what we do or do not own. Or more accurately, home finds me in those moments when all that matters in the world is a good sentence in a favorite book or when my arms and legs are sore from digging in the garden or shoveling snow. I can arrange and rearrange the furniture--which I have done and will always do--but I know that no matter where the sofa goes, home is in the living. - Gigi @ Magpie's Fancy
I loved those words penned by one of my best blogging pals, Gigi. It made me think of my own definitions home. My Dad was in the Army, and until I was 12, we moved about every two years. We lived in Indonesia and Williamsburg and many points in between. So, as a child, home was wherever the four of us landed. Once the furniture came through the door, I knew I was home.
As I entered my teens we settled in North Georgia, just outside Chattanooga, Tennessee. In those formative years, I truly became a southern girl. Adopted, maybe, but still, the South is my heart's home. I married a good ol' Southern boy and happily traded my New York City dreams for those of a more rural variety.
Early in our marriage we spent several very happy years in the (rural) Pacific Northwest. I could go on and on and on about how much I love Oregon and miss the Northwest. I could tell you about how great it is to get back for a visit every other summer, and how I always have a foot long list of places and people I must revisit. But, my heart still longs for the South.
Now we live in the Midwest. Missouri has brought many gifts into our lives, including two wonderful teaching careers and the chance to live near my parents. And still, our hearts long for the Tennessee River, Lookout Mountain, a slightly slower pace of life, and the chance to say, "Ya'll" regularly.
I think the South will always be my heart's home. But, my real home? Funny how some things never change. Home is still where my family is. As long as Jeffrey and Sloane are there, any place at all can be home. Any place at all.
This eight year old picture is still one of my favorites of Jeffrey and Sloane. How blessed I am that they still enjoy each other that much.
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