There are times we appreciate the comfort of home more than we can say — like, when we’re sick for instance. Coming off a full week bout with the flu/pnuemonia, I can say without hesitation that my home is certainly my refuge. And that, in my opinion, is as it should be.
Home should be more than a “statement” of our decorating style. Coming home after a long, hard day out in the world should produce a sweet sigh of relief and swiftly decrease one’s blood pressure.
Or, as in my case, home should wrap you in soothing comfort when you’re not exactly at your best.
While in a semi-state of feverish delirium this past week, I realized that my home is one gigantic scrapbook. Practically every object has a story attached to it — a gift, a trip, a lovely find at a tag sale.
Home is certainly more than just a roof over our heads. It’s a place to nurture the soul, to provide comfort just when we need it most.
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