No Place Like Home

Hello my friends.

Thank you for stopping by.

I have been thinking a lot about

Several things have happened to bring back

 Memories of Home.

The home of my childhood, the first home

that my husband and I created,

The home we raised our children in

and the various homes I have lived in since my

husbands death and my children growing to adulthood

and they creating their own homes.

I began blogging to make a visual journal

of my home.  That was over 12 years ago

and I lived in a different home.

It doesn't matter if you live in a house, a condo

townhouse, an apartment, cabin, tent or hut.

It is HOME to you.

A home is as different, and as varied as the people who live there.

A house takes on the personality of those who call it home.

I have been in homes, that had an inviting feeling to those who entered.

Welcome, and sit awhile was felt.

And I have been in homes, that I couldn't get out of fast enough.

It doesn't matter how grand and fancy the house is. . .

What matters is how much 

Love, Kindness, Happiness and Compassion

And so much more is given within the Home.

I truly love my little home.

It is not fancy by any means.

But I am happy to be here at this time in my life.

It is Home, it is my Home.

And I thank God every day I have a Home.

It is clean, it is warm in the winter and cool in the summer.

It has clean running water, all the modern amenities to make

my life comfortable.  Through my windows I can see 

sunshine, rain, snow and blue, or gray skies.

Storm clouds can arrive and I am safe in my Home.

Edger Guest says it takes a heap of livin

to make a house a Home.

I believe that is true.

KARIE

Home

BY EDGAR ALBERT GUEST

It takes a heap o’ livin’ in a house t’ make it home, 

A heap o’ sun an’ shadder, an’ ye sometimes have t’ roam 

Afore ye really ’preciate the things ye lef’ behind, 

An’ hunger fer ’em somehow, with ’em allus on yer mind. 

It don’t make any differunce how rich ye get t’ be, 

How much yer chairs an’ tables cost, how great yer luxury; 

It ain’t home t’ ye, though it be the palace of a king, 

Until somehow yer soul is sort o’ wrapped round everything. 

Home ain’t a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute; 

Afore it’s home there’s got t’ be a heap o’ livin’ in it; 

Within the walls there’s got t’ be some babies born, and then 

Right there ye’ve got t’ bring ‘em up t’ women good, an’ men; 

And gradjerly, as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn’t part 

With anything they ever used—they’ve grown into yer heart: 

The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore 

Ye hoard; an’ if ye could ye’d keep the thumbmarks on the door. 

Ye’ve got t’ weep t’ make it home, ye’ve got t’ sit an’ sigh 

An’ watch beside a loved one’s bed, an’ know that Death is nigh; 

An’ in the stillness o’ the night t’ see Death’s angel come, 

An’ close the eyes o’ her that smiled, an’ leave her sweet voice dumb. 

Fer these are scenes that grip the heart, an’ when yer tears are dried, 

Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an’ sanctified; 

An’ tuggin’ at ye always are the pleasant memories 

O’ her that was an’ is no more—ye can’t escape from these. 

Ye’ve got t’ sing an’ dance fer years, ye’ve got t’ romp an’ play, 

An’ learn t’ love the things ye have by usin’ ’em each day; 

Even the roses ’round the porch must blossom year by year 

Afore they ’come a part o’ ye, suggestin’ someone dear 

Who used t’ love ’em long ago, an’ trained ’em jes’ t’ run 

The way they do, so’s they would get the early mornin’ sun; 

Ye’ve got t’ love each brick an’ stone from cellar up t’ dome: 

It takes a heap o’ livin’ in a house t’ make it home.

Linking to:
Inspire Me Tuesday
All About Home
The Yellow Brick Home
Common Ground
 Keep In Touch/Let's Add Sparkles