Three years ago this week, SSH and I started looking for our house. We knew we needed to move, as Hurricane Ike had well demonstrated the struggles our more coastal area would have with any kind of tropical storm, and we knew that around the first of the year we’d be able to start really looking for a home. It was a learning time for both of us, filled with books about houses, phone calls to family members, internet house listings and house-hunting programs on TV.
Something I didn’t expect to be so significant about being in a house, versus an apartment, was the level of “ours-ness” that would come about as we both added our own style to the house and as we changed with it through the seasons. I can’t speak for SSH, but setting up the house for the holidays this year brought back memories of our last two holiday seasons here, and how things are so different for us now than they were three years ago, or two years ago, or even last year.
The more memories we have here, and the more time we spend, plus the work we’ve put into making this place ours – the house feels more and more like a reflection of us. The gardens, especially, make me feel plugged into this little chunk of land with our house on it.
Decorating for the holidays, I realized that there are some decorations that no longer fit anymore, and others that I may not have put out in the past that seem to fit better now.
The out of place things stick out more than they used to, since I feel so settled in.
I am, at my core, a homebody. I enjoy traveling to new places, but I don’t have the wanderlust, the sense of adventure that some of my other family members seem to have. I like my home, and being able to return to that home is one of the highlights of a long trip. The safety and security of my own place is something that I treasure, especially during the winter months.
Seeing the house decorated for the winter holidays only reinforces how much at home I feel here, and how thankful I am to have it.