Home. The very word conjures up emotions and memories.
For me, where ever I am sleeping is home when I am referring to where I need to go back to. Or, specifically where him is at, is home. A hotel, our house, or tent, a room on a cruise ship, all home. It's a little more than where the heart is, though my husband does hold my heart. Going to my first home, which is where my dad lives, carries a lot of memories of my mom. It is comfortable to be back there. Leaving is always difficult. it is a different brand of home for my heart.
I prefer to be home. No matter where specifically I am calling home that day. If we are camping, I would rather stay in camp and listen to a book while I am knitting. If we are traveling, I prefer to stay in the hotel rather than go out sight seeing. Cruising is awesome because I am not required to do anything more than eat and go sit in one of the salons with him. If I am here, in my home, I would always rather stay home than go anywhere. Unless we are going on a trip. It could be that riding in the car is uncomfortable causing pain in my body. It could be that I don't like to do much outside my home. It could be that I'm lazy and it takes work to get ready to get out of the house, specifically requiring me to get out of my comfy clothes and actually get dressed. It really doesn't matter why, I am comfortable being in my home, being a hermit. A serious hermit, keeping the blinds down in my office (mostly because I can't see my iPad), in the living room because nobody can see the TV if they are opened and because it helps the house stay warmer or cooler.
I like to be in, away from the heat/cold. I always have some knitting/crocheting/tatting/stitching/spinnin project I am working on and would rather be here doing it. I leave my house every Sunday for Church meetings. I like leaving for there and it is only a two minute drive. I usually go to town with him every three weeks or so to go to a movie and lunch/dinner. Once a month I try to get to a spin in with a friend trying to improve my spinning skills. I've only managed to get there once in the last 7 months. And once a month to a fiber guild meeting here in my town. I've made it to that twice in 9 months. Something else always manages to come up, I am sick, Dimples is up, meeting I have to go to, someone else visiting here. Lots of people want to come stay here because we are just a couple of minute walk from the Blackfoot River. You know, the one in the movie A River Runs Through it. Visitors kind of get in the way of my hermithood.
Him is the opposite. Him can't abide staying home. I actually cannot tell you the last time he stayed home the whole day unless he is very sick. If him does not have something planned, which is mostly fishing in the summer, he has meetings for the two boards he is on here in our little town, teaching fishing/fly tying/water saftey classes at the elementary school, teaching fly tying classes to community members, helping someone understand what they should do to survive a certain type of cancer they have that he had, going to one town or another 70 miles away and in the summer he is a fishing guide. And if nothing else is on him's calendar, he will at the very least go into our little town to get the mail. Did I mention he is retired? Him is busy with something every single day. It makes me a little dizzy.
My husband and my stuff define where I am most comfortable, sometimes one, sometimes the other, sometimes sometimes both. And, where I will be sleeping that night. I am comfortable my home. It is where all my stuff is. Which is another definition of what home is, to me. I like it here. My husband and I have many memories of home. My child and my grandchild, most of our memories were made in our home. This is where we make our most important memories.
What makes it home for you?
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