"living has yet to be generally recognized as one of the arts" -Karl de Schweinitz
We bought a little house. I hesitate to call it little because of course little is so relative. Let's just say I got rid of a lot of stuff to move in here. It's just right. It's a near replica of the Little Dream House we looked at last spring, just down the street but yet to be updated. We are working on that.
I worried some about the size. I really love having friends in and playdates and our rental was a big house and made that so easy. We won't stop, we will just have to be a little more creative.
Also, we homeschool. We are at home A Lot.
Right now the thing I'm enjoying most about the house is it's smallness. I like our together. I like that all of our spaces are fully used, right down to the basement laundry which is also now our craft room. I like the challenge of making this work.
Mostly, this move makes me fall in love all over again with home. Having a home, making a home, being at home. After all of our stuff was sorted, sold or donated, packed and unpacked, I think about how what I love most has nothing to do with a place you move into or out of. All of the things which I spent weeks organizing, packing, moving, thinking about- an entire truck full of things- do not compare to the sound of a flame under the tea kettle. A bath running. The smell of garlic and onions cooking. A hug around the neck as we sit reading.
I am so thankful for home.