The one where home really is

where the heart is.  It’s where I know all the quirks, which door sticks and which door will never stay closed, where to find the corkscrew even though I don’t drink and knowing exactly how many potato peelings it takes to stop up my disposal.  I can remember every detail, where I was sitting, whether or not the TV was on and what I was snacking on when DD and DSIL called to tell us we were going to be grandparents and what was going on when DS told us he was going to propose to (now) DDIL.  I remember sadder things too, what we were doing when we got word that my DSIL had been in an accident and was in the hospital, the last time that Cheyenne, our sweet weimaraner, climbed down off the couch and what was happening when I noticed that my parents had gotten old.  I’ve been away from home most of the last couple of weeks, but I’m home now and really do feel wrapped up nice and tight, the way I think a newborn feels when it’s swaddled, fed, warm and secure.  I’m happy to be home, can you tell?

For my FO Friday, a less than perfect pic, but here’s the Brittany Jumper in all it’s glory.  I’ll post again when I get a photo of the Papoose wearing it.

Cute buttons, don’t you think?

Let us not look back in anger, nor forward in fear, but around in awareness.  James Thurber (1894-1961)