|House after the first snow storm of December 2008|
I didn't feel like I was home in the first house I bought until the day I stood back from hanging up all my tools above my new work bench to look at them. The sense of that place being home flooded over me quite unexpectedly and in a rush. I still had lots of remodeling to do and projects to complete, but for some reason, having all my tools put away in their very own places made me feel very much at home.
This place is different, and I can't think why. On the one hand, this isn't my house; this is our house, and just Steve being in it makes it home, of course. But the tools have had their own places almost from the beginning, and that's not doing it for me this time. Part of me hasn't relaxed yet, and maybe it's because there's still so much to do around here. I think that must be it, this time. Maybe when I get everything done, and can relax, it'll feel like home.
Or maybe I'll get just one random thing done and the sense of home will hit me like a house falling out of the sky.