We are in the process of selling our house in the mountains at the moment. I can’t actually believe that I am doing something as grown up as selling a house, but there you go. We are selling a house so I must be an adult after all…
Any how, we are selling our house. It makes sense for us to do it for a number of practical reasons, but it is still like admitting that we aren’t going to be going back to the mountains… ever. Of course I know this really. I mean, we have the farm, I have a job in town, we have made friends and put down roots here. We are here to stay, and I have known we are here to stay for over three years.
I think Country Boy have would have happily sold the house several years ago, but we held on to it for my benefit. So I could get used to the idea that I’m not going back.
I’m not really a sentimental person. I don’t need to keep lots of objects given to me by loved ones. My memories are enough. But there is a little part of me that is sorry that we will no longer have our house in the mountains. With my parents and sister still there, as well as many friends, we will continue to visit often, but I guess I no longer have a mountains home.
I know I keep coming back to the idea of home on this blog. Home is a feeling. It is where my loved ones are found. It’s our refuge from the busyness of life, and where our lives happen. So I guess this farm is now home. Despite the many things I may never understand about it. Its’ quiet, yellow summers, and freezing cold winters, its’ old farm house and big garden, the wide open spaces, and the long drives to anywhere.
What is home to you?