Technically, I am home most every night. Occasionally, Beulah (my dog) and I stay over at Mom's. The home I grew up in will always feel like a safe, comforting place. In my apartment, I'm surrounded by my belongings and everything is where I put it. I think there is it's own kind of comfort in that. The funny thing is, I've lost my true sense of home. I've been thinking a lot about it lately as I drive past charming houses. I wonder if a certain house was mine would that childhood feeling come back. I don't know but I like to think it will. Until then I feel safe and all tucked in here upstairs in my apartment. A hot cup of tea, a corgi dog, and sewing to do. I couldn't ask for much more than that.