Last night I was standing at my stove whipping up some soup beans and corn bread (what else would a nice little southern girl eat on the coldest night of the year?) when I took in my surroundings. I was standing in my kitchen in our house. The dogs were curled up at my feet and Jason was picking up a few things in the backyard. All the sudden I just felt this wave of joy, this is my life I thought. I have a nice little life. I have an adorable husband, a cute little house, sweet puppies and a bunch of great friends.
My life didn't turn out the way I thought it would. I am not really sure what I expected but I don't think small town life was what I had in mind. The thing is, I am happy. Truly happy. Jason and I moved so much when we first got married. We have been in our little house, with two front doors, for 1 year 4 month. This is the longest we have lived anywhere together. And last night while I was making cornbread it occurred to me, we finally have home.
The photo is of my very old kitchen table. Our home is a 1910 mill house complete with the original, creaky hardwood floors.