It Is Home

Today, it is in the way the pale gray light comes in the window and shines in on the floor...it is the way the colors mingle with one another and create for my eyes a canvas as beautiful as any masterpiece hanging in a museum. It is the way the floors creak and the screen door slams. It is the beauty of the world within these 4 walls, that has my heart so full. It is not a beauty found in glossy magazines or decorating books, but a beauty that does not fade with the latest fad. It is home. Curtains, crisp and white in windows that hold storms at bay and frame sunsets Divine.
The faint scent of cinnamon drifts through the house, into the doorways of the bedrooms, once filled with children's things. A family home....a home still for our children to come to and remember too their childhood. The sounds familiar to them, comforting. It is still their home too. Different for them now, as they have their own houses to make into a home. But there is comfort in heading out the back door, hearing that slam of the screen door that will always be there. To know the places they built forts and hid in early evening games of hide and seek.

To walk the same path to the barns where they talked to the goats and pony when they needed a listening ear. To smell that same wonderful smell of hay stacked high.

I want to grow old in this house of ours. I want it to be "the old home place". Countertops with pies cooling, ready for grandchildren to delight in. It should give comfort and rest for any weary bones that stop by for a chat. A pitcher of cool water on the table in summer and a pot of hot tea in winter, comfort and refreshment for conversation. A fire blazing on cold winter days, the flames reflecting in copper on a clean and shining floor. It is home.

No hurried meals, table of plenty. Celebrations around the dining room table. My girls, helping me at the holidays, prepare our traditional fare. No lazy bones in my girls. They were trained right.

It's in the way the wool is piled up by the spinning wheel, waiting to be spun. Its in the way the lamp light chases away the gloom of a day without sun. It is home.