And what a better place to take a break then back in the town that I grew up in.
So last weekend, my boyfriend Erik and I took the hour and a half journey down M95 to my house in Iron Mountain.
Pulling up in the driveway, I'm insistently filled with the comfort of home.
I love the way my living room still smells like apples and cinnamon (courtesy of my mother's Yankee candles). My puppy Bruno and dog Ransom always great me at the door with their tails wagging. I knew they would never forget me.
My mom is not far behind them with her arms open ready to give me a big welcome home hug.
Erik and I take off our shoes and plop down on the couch. I take a deep breath and exhale. Home at Last.
Gratitudes:
* Those who love me unconditionally
* A Bible verse from mom
* A piece of Pecan Pie
I know what you mean, I could really use a vacation home. It sounds cliche but there really is no place like home :)
ReplyDelete