Our home is my most precious place on earth. The sound of my front door closing gives me such comfort. I know every noise and what it means . . . the thud of the heater kicking in on a cold evening, the rumble of my husband’s car coming down the driveway, the kids clanging the front gate and running inside, the cat meowing at our back door.
My home is where I feel safe, relaxed and happy. We lock the gate, ignore the phone and invite friends to come to us. Nothing shows love more than a meal you have put thought and effort into.
Our house is nothing particularly fancy. It’s decked out in my favourite colours of chocolate brown, cream and blue. It’s a photo album of our life. Kids’ paintings are framed and hanging on the wall. We have a whole wall of family photos, including black-and-white wedding portraits of our grandparents and cute but meaningful happy snaps.
Trinkets from our travels are on shelves or framed, each one reminding us of a special place we’ve been, and the emotions associated with those experiences.
Ok, so our decor doesn’t look carefully styled or immaculately coordinated . . . it’s more an eclectic mix of pieces I’ve fallen in love with. But I can tell you where each and every item has come from and why I love it so much.
I am also prone to a little rearranging. My husband has been known to come home from the odd business trip to find a wall painted a different colour or a room subtly reorganised. I rotate knick-knacks and pictures, and much of the time no one even notices.
Home is where I take off my shoes, put on the kettle and crank up the music, depending on my mood. We love nothing more than to cook up a feast then deal with the mess the next morning, to bring out the good linen or enjoy a very long and late barbecue on a hot summer night.
Our deck is where the cat sleeps in the afternoon sun, or I do. Where our kids can bring their friends or just hang out with us. I know I am lucky to have such a sweet piece of paradise.
And I hope it will provide my kids with a happy sanctuary now, but also a sweet place in their hearts forever. I can remember every home I grew up in. My favourite hidden places in the garden, the number of steps leading to the front door, my guinea pig hutch, the colours of my bedroom and the exact path I took to walk to school.
Now it’s my turn to create that story for my kids.