Courtesy of Santa Rosa

As I nest deeply this winter, I’ve been thinking: What makes a house a home?

We know a home when we’re in one. It feels lived-in and personalized. The decor may not be what we would choose for ourselves, but there’s something indefinably idiosyncratic about the place. No identifiable designer’s footprint. And it’s much more than just a shelter or place of residence.

What makes your home “home” to you?

It’s officially 2008, and my January Article is posted here. Enjoy!

Rainy days and Mondays, as the song used to go. Today we have both, and even news from family and friends has been gloomy. When there’s nothing I can change, I put on some music and light candles. and then try to figure out what to focus on next. There’s no shortage of things to do — it’s a matter of figuring out which one to tackle when my energy is low.

I already tried “nothing” and that didn’t help. I did much needed filing yesterday and am not in the mood to do more. (The truth is, I really like to file other people’s papers but not my own. I should be disposing of catalogues. And doing research for an article idea. Straightening. Dusting. Making phone calls. *Bleech*

Every now and then there’s a day that should be taken out of the week. Just hit delete and start over the next morning, right? Thank goodness there aren’t too many of them or the year would be over faster than it already is.

Maybe I’ll just tell myself it’s Tuesday. I’m getting to the age where that might work.

Flying over Arizona

Last night we went to the nearby Canyon Moon Theatre to hear Robin Miller introduce his latest CD. Robin’s a local artist with a large following, and it’s always wonderful to experience that magnificent music in person.

And tomorrow night I get to see James Taylor — finally! I guess that some things just take longer than others to manifest.

I did it. I went back “home” again.

This afternoon we drove into Fair Lawn and down our old street. It looked pretty much the same as it did 5 months ago, except for the new curtains on “our” windows. And “our” garbage cans were on the opposite side of the house. And of course those weren’t our cars in the driveway.

We saw that our former next-door neighbor was home, so we knocked on the door to say hello. Tina was delighted to see us again and told us that she loved the people we had sold the house to; not only have she and Jessica become friends, but their little daughters (who just happen to be the same age) have become friends as well.

“Why don’t you go over there and take a look?” she suggested. “They’ve painted, and changed it enough that you won’t feel like you’re seeing your old rooms. I bet it will make you feel more able to move on.”

I hesitated, but then something told me that it was the right thing to do. So I walked on over and knocked on the door. Jessica opened it, obviously trying to remember why I looked familiar, and then smiled in recognition. She invited us in…

And darned if it didn’t look almost totally different. Yes, it had the same outside but the inside definitely belonged to a young couple with a 2 year old. I was surprised to feel such relief, and also such strangeness as Jessica and I stood on the opposite sides of where we had been last spring when this house had been our home, and they were the visitors.

Now I know that I can re-visit these neighborhood memories without feeling like I still have a foot stuck in that world.

Thanks, Tina!