I’m one of those people who will walk through our house on a mission to get coffee, do chores, etc., and then some amazing scene or moment will catch my eye and the mission will be abandoned.
Poof! Just like that, my easily distracted squirrel brain will be compelled to stop and snap a quick candid photo of the amazing scene or moment.
Do you do that too?
This situation occurs often enough that I need a sign on my back that says, “This person makes frequent stops to snap photos. Do not follow closely behind.”
It’s probably also why I can’t find things (scissors, Kindle, laundry basket) because in my haste to capture a moment before the lighting changes or the people move I’ve set these things down in random places and completely forgotten about them.
Totally worth it.
These candid photos of our house are fun to snap and share here, but the camera can never quite capture the feeling that the house evokes at that precise moment in time.
Sometimes it’s a feeling of warmth with the sun streaming in through a particular window like the house wants to give its inhabitants a big hug.
Sometimes it’s a feeling of being connected to history when a particular gouge in the floor or dent in the wall makes me think of all the people who lived here before me. I wonder if they loved and were sometimes overwhelmed by this money pit as much as I do and am.
Sometimes it’s a feeling of safety when a storm is raging outside and I remind myself that this house has protected its inhabitants for well over 200 years and it will probably (*says a prayer and crosses all fingers and toes*) protect us too.
Sometimes it’s just a feeling of contentment and it has nothing to do with the state of the house now. I had that feeling from the very first night we slept here surrounded by moving boxes, peeling wallpaper, and a horrifying number of spiders.
I’m not sure if this house is that special or if I’m just in a place in life where I appreciate the little things so much more than I used to.
I snapped the below photo while sitting on the front porch with Handy Husband.
It was taken on a summer evening. We had finally had a break in the sweltering weather and it felt pleasant enough to sit outside for a spell.
We were eating cold cherries and sipping on after-dinner drinks.
We talked about everything and nothing of importance. I think he showed me a funny video he had seen. I told him this front porch was just begging for a porch swing that was big enough that we could sit side-by-side on it and cuddle.
I remember I was wearing my pajamas and he was barefoot.
It was as mundane and beautiful as a moment could be and it seared my heart with how perfect it was.
Frederick William Robertson is quoted in the 1800s as saying the following.
“Home is the one place in all this world where hearts are sure of each other. It is the place of confidence. It is the place where we tear off that mask of guarded and suspicious coldness which the world forces us to wear in self-defense, and where we pour out the unreserved communications of full and confiding hearts. It is the spot where expressions of tenderness gush out without any sensation of awkwardness and without any dread of ridicule.”
Isn’t that a beautiful quote? I feel that sentiment here in this house with my family.
Truthfully, it’s more about the people than the place for me. No matter where we are, they are my home.
These candid photos of our home could be just that – pretty snapshots in time.
But to me, there is a well of meaning behind them because I know what was happening and what I was feeling when I dropped everything to snap these photos. To foolishly attempt, once again, to coax my camera to capture what my eyes could see and my heart could feel.
I’m acutely aware not everyone has warm, fuzzy feelings about home. There have been times when I have not had warm, fuzzy feelings about home.
It’s a state of being that I never want to experience again.
Perhaps that’s why I want to nurture and cherish these tender feelings of warmth, contentment, safety, and connection that we’ve experienced here and not take them for granted. It’s a reminder that for all of the ebbs and flows of life we’re pretty happy in this place and in this season of life.
Come what may the rest.
Do you stop and take candid photos of your home? Do you have strong feelings about the concept of home? I’d love to know. You can always comment on this blog post (I have to approve it first before it appears), email me here, or reach out via Instagram or Facebook.
Thanks for being here today and allowing me to share some a mix of home and personal topics. I appreciate you. Here are some other posts you might enjoy.