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I've been thinking a lot about what I consider home to be. For me it is a quad apartment building off a side street that connects to one of the two major roads in my little town. My apartment has a rustic brick wall on one side while all the rest inside are done with light colored paneling. It has a fake wooden floor that gets too cold in the winter for my taste. It is a small one bedroom apartment, yet is decent in size. When I first saw it, it reminded me a little of a cottage - not the building, but the inside of the apartment. The paneling reminded me of my parent's home, so after all my stuff had been moved in, the place felt like home. Well, if you could minus all the boxes and clutter of items.
But for many people even a place like this doesn't feel like home. So what does make a place feel like home?
For me it is making the place personalized. It took a long while to succeed in this after we moved to this apartment due to having surgery done on my ankle last year, but I finally did it. I sewed my own curtains, hung up a few decorations, unpacked lots of boxes, got the kitchen area...well someone clean, and started a potted garden outside. We even decorated the mini backyard that we share with the neighbors. Oh, and my next door neighbors are old friends of ours that we convinced to move in. So I'm never far from someone to keep me company.
Also being able to come home to someone who is happy to see me everyday, along with my furry pets, is a great feeling. I honestly can say that if it wasn't for my pets, I'd be one bored squirrelly person. I might have even started to actually collect nuts! Well, maybe not. Anyway, I swear my pets are one of the few things that allow me to stay sane....or insane. I'm really not sure which I am. All in all, though having something to come home to, whether it is a person, a cat, or a ferret, is a very great feeling. I don't think there is anything that can replace that.
After all this, a complete year after moving in, this place actually feels like home. Its messy and cluttered, but it is home all the same. I call it my nest in the tree because it is one of four apartments in a brown building that, for reasons unknown, reminds me of a tree. Of course that could just be from the squirrel in me trying to relate everything to....well, a squirrel.
So the question remains as to why do I say "Home is Where You Hang Your Broom"? Well, simply put it is a very true statement for us Witches. However, it is mostly due to a sign I purchased and placed in my kitchen that started this whole post. Funny how a simple thing can cause one to wander in thought.