This is a picture of our home that we have hanging in our playroom. It was left behind by the previous owners, and I am so glad because I just love it. I was holding Scarlett the other day when she looked over at it and said in high pitched voice of excitment..."It's home!!" She has seen this hanging a million times but it was like she figured out for the 1st time, that it was home. I have to say...this home that we live in to me really is home. The chipping paint, the creaky floors, the porches that are ancient and so desperately needing replaced do not matter to me, because for some reason, it really is home. I can walk out on my porch (when it's sunny that is) and feel in my heart that there is no place I would rather be. I think I was meant to be some farmers wife. I guess Chris could be the farmer? Nah, there is no time for that unfortunately. But I want my kids to feed chickens! I want to see them dirty from head to toe. I want them to run around with bare feet! I want them to own bb guns and be a little on the red neck side...(okay...very little) but a little nonetheless. I feel very blessed to live in a place that regardless of age, means everything to this little (big) family. Without Heavenly Father's help, we wouldn't be here. We would still be stuck in a neighborhhod jammed packed up against other neighbors. Neighbors are nice, but I gotta tell ya.... for me...privacy, and room is much nicer. I feel so blessed to call this old place home.
