Five Minutes of Home

I wasn’t going to do it today. Because, although the blog’s been slow, my mind has been full these last few weeks. And I have a lot of other stuff I’d like to update you on. But, alas, that will have to wait. Because, really, I can’t not take the bait Lisa-Jo dangled in my inbox today in the form of a five-minute Friday topic.

Home

GO:

Ahhh. That four letter word I am longing to see. The one that means comfortable and lovely and mine. The place I will be in three short months.

H-O-M-E

It’s not that this place isn’t home for now. I mean, it’s our landing strip for life here in this foreign land. It’s just not ours. Well, not the place, anyway.

The memories are ours, though. Always to keep.

The things our family does here that makes it our home. Breakfast and dinner around this 3-foot by 2-foot white wooden table with the benches and the chairs and the schnitzel and the potato cheese soup and the laughing.

Oh, the laughing.

The windows make it home, as well. The tree limbs that dangle in between my line of sight and the old building across the street I stare at while I cook.

But home, real home, the one we own and can change and paint and not have to bring up from memory when we want to think about where we’re going. Those four sweet letters make my heart feel happy with anticipation. And longing for, well, home.

STOP

What do you think of when you think of home?