There is something fine about the stillness of a house after people have been in it. All afternoon there were guests in and out and this place was filled with the happy noise of conversation.
I was pleased to see that all my people from different aspects of my life mixed well together and found pleasant conversation to make with one another while I played hostess.
I was exceptionally pleased when the children showed up and tumbled around the place investigating. Dancing toddlers were the afternoon's entertainment. The whole of my family-by-choice fit in here very nicely.
Now, I sit in the quiet of the aftermath, listening to the hum of the dishwasher cleaning up coffee cups. I finally feel that after nearly a year, my tiny house feels like a home.
"Home is the one place in all this world where hearts are sure of each other. It is the place of confidence. It is the place where we tear off that mask of guarded and suspicious coldness which the world forces us to wear in self-defense, and where we pour out the unreserved communications of full and confiding hearts. It is the spot where expressions of tenderness gush out without any sensation of awkwardness and without any dread of ridicule."
~Frederick W. Robertson