Sunday, February 26, 2012

there's no place like...

Home.
That word holds such meaning, doesn't it? The connotation it brings with it is somehow so much more than any number of words could describe. It's more than a house--much, much more than a house. It's even more than that place you grew up or the place you go to on weekends in college when you just need to get away. 
It's...well, it's home.
And this weekend I went home. I went home to mom and dad, to ears that listen and arms that love to hold.  I went home to a cozy fire and a refrigerator stocked with fresh fruit (my mom knows me well :)) and my bedroom with those beautiful red walls that hold pictures from a time that seems so long ago.
So after long conversations over delicious meals, a massage that nearly brought me to tears because I had so many knots in my shoulders, and a Sunday family lunch that brought everyone I love to our home, I feel like I can take on the world again.
In addition to a Pioneer Woman macaroni dish and dessert, Morgan volunteered  to bring her homemade sweet potato biscuits. And let me tell you. These were not just any sweet potato biscuits...
Morgan brought homemade lard that she rendered last night to use in her biscuits. This is the real deal, y'all. For a second--if only for a second--it made me want to go back in time, live on a farm and milk a cow or something.
...I told you lasted for a second.

Of course I had to show Ellie some love since I wouldn't give her any of my food under the table. I'm only being a responsible aunt. And no one eats my sweet potato biscuits but me.

And this is what I saw as I made my way down my driveway and returned to "real life," as I like to call it. It made me want to turn around and go back to my spot in front of the fireplace a little bit, but I drove on. I drove on because I know that whenever I need a little bit of home I can just call, because that's what really makes that house a home anyways.

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