From my home to yours. . .

What a difference between the meaning of the words "house" and "home."  When I think of the word "house,"  I think of things like buying, selling, improving, brick, carpet, and furnishings.  Upon hearing the word "home," I think of a loving, quiet, hard-working mother.  I think of a good smell and a clean environment.  I think of happiness and love.  I always want my house to be a home.  I want my family to want to be there. . .and even enjoy being there.

So far, my husband and I have lived in two houses.  One was a little, yellow, 800 square foot, two bedroom, one bathroom house.  We rented it for a year upon moving to Lewisburg, TN.  It was a cute house that we knew was going to be temporary.  We named it "The Harwell."

You see, before moving to Tennessee, I lived in the city.  My family lived outside of Detroit, Michigan, and I went to college and lived outside of Chicago, Illinois.  I had been used to having multiple restaurants, grocery stores, and shops at my disposal.  I never really would have had to travel outside of my 2-3 mile "comfort zone" if I didn't want to.  Then I moved to Lewisburg.  I admit that there are many places more obscure; however, I about had a conniption.  My only grocery options (that I saw) were Kroger and Wal-mart.  My only restaurant options were greasy, fast food.  The closest coffee shop, "mall", and store that I liked (Ross and TJ Maxx) were 30 miles away. . .one way.  What was I going to do?  I was also unemployed.  I had been looking for a job for months before moving there, but still nothing.  Thankfully there was a library. (I won't get into those issues!)  I saw a book from Williams-Sonoma about baking bread.  There was a bagel recipe. I craved bagels.  The only previous option I had was to eat a refrigerated one from Wal-mart or drive a minimum of 60 miles.  I wanted a Panera bagel - a good one.  Then it occured to me. . .I could make the bagels myself.  I had flour and cheese.  I had a pot and an oven.  Let me just say, "Love at first bite."  I had stumbled upon something wonderful. Thus it was born, "The Harwell" (we lived on Harwell Avenue).  Where are we eating tonight?  The Harwell.  Where are we going to stay?  The Harwell. The name brought a fond, familiar feeling. The Harwell.  It sounded like a fancy hotel with a nice restaurant. . .but we didn't care to continue to rent.  We wanted to own.

When we found a house to purchase, it was on a road named "Highway  40."  In my opinion, there were no comforting or warm feelings to the name "Highway 40."  So we came up with the name "Cafe 40."  Our new house that was to become our home.

In this blog, I would like to share my thoughts and feelings about our homes, families, and selves. . .from my home to yours.