Looking For Home

I have a friend who doesn't understand why I like to look at houses. I'm not in the market for a house so why do I look at them? I actually go to open houses.  I love to see homes that are staged for sale. I love the minimalism of it. The staging makes me think, "Ah. This is what it would be like to live here. This is what a fresh start looks like." 

Of course, a staged home looks nothing like a house that is lived in. But in a glossy magazine type presentation, the house whispers, "But I could look like this". 

Do I want to live in such a home?  A staged one that wants me to think I could be happy there. Truly, the answer is "no". The homes that make me happy are not perfect. They are beautifully lived in.  I enjoy being in the homes of friends. I like to get a glimpse of how they make a life.

I have a girlfriend who I love to visit. She's an amazing cook and when I'm at her house, we spend a lot of time in her kitchen. I love the open shelving above her stove where her spices live. I love watching her create in the kitchen. She makes it look seamless. She's usually cooking something for later or even just cooking something for me. It's a gift to spend time with her and talk with her while she is cooking. The everyday-ness of our time together is anything but mundane. 

Another friend comes to mind when I think about "home". I met Lynn when our daughters were in the same daycare. The first Christmas we were at the daycare, Lynn had a cookie party and Danielle and I were invited. When we arrived, tables were set with plates of sugar cookies just waiting for kids to adorn. The tables had all kinds of sugars and icings set out so the kids could decorate (and eat) cookies to their hearts' content. Parents were not expected to stay. But, of course, I stayed. I wanted to watch the fun and I wanted to get to know Lynn. 

My cuz is also great at making you feel at home. I remember sitting on her couch one Thanksgiving evening. The big meal had come and gone. We were all snacking with plates on her laps and watching a football game. I fell in love with Cathy's snacks, especially the pigs in a blanket. She made them with cornbread and link sausages. That kind of yumminess feels like home. We curled up on the couch and visited. it was just that kind of day.

My own kitchen feels like I'm a nomad. I only have enough snacks to get through the next football game. 

This is my first apartment without my love. He has never seen it. The apartment is filled with things I bought after the move. Things like a new couch, a new TV, a new table. Jordan would have liked it. When I first moved in I couldn't stop crying. I ached as I started to build some sort of life alone.

I love this apartment. It's the perfect size and layout. Oddly, I never completely made it home. I came close...but never hung a single picture.  I did get excellent help to organize which went a super long way to making a home. But, I just didn't finish. 

Next month I will move again. Just two years after moving into this apartment.  This move is another milestone of sorts. I'm moving much closer to work. This is something I resisted. I will be in a town I've never lived in before. This should ease the stress of commuting.  I will need more help to feel settled.  And, I really must hang my pictures.