There are so many cliches about home and heart and all that... well, they're all true, aren't they. At first, it is just a house, or an apartment, or a room in a house or a dorm. Then, over the weeks and months, it becomes part of you, the place you where you belong, and which you carry around with you. It smells like you and you like it, for better or worse... You do dishes and laundry there. If you're us, you get married, have all your babies, and educate them there, too. In sickness, in health... gosh, I'm a bit attached. I am grateful for all of these things and more. I'm grateful for the views out my windows while doing those dishes. I'm grateful for the sounds of owls, the chatter of squirrels and twitter and zoom of birds that also call this place home. I'm grateful for warmth and warm water. I'm grateful for my bed. I'm grateful for working toilets and drains, and septic tank. I'm grateful for well water that tastes good and is very plentiful. I'm grateful for all the machines that make my life easy: washing machine, dryer, dishwasher, vacuum, furnace, stove, oven, fridge. And... then there are all the intangibles. Too numerous, but so important... the thing that makes me say, ahhhh, when I step in the door.... ahh, it's home, we're home. We can take off our coats and shoes and the layers of whatever it is we put on when we're 'out there' and just be free rangin' crazy naked freaks. Figuratively, and literally, too. Sometimes, at least. So, so grateful for that place to hang my heart and hat, and all the many homes I have had over the years.