Sittin' amongst boxes and clothes filled trash bags.  Bare walls, curtainless windows, bits n' pieces of collective life possessions. 

Takin' down memories and movin' on.

I do believe living spaces feel our presence and either welcome or reject us, making it either a home or just a place where we store our stuff.  I've had both. 

Four walls and a roof (sounds like a sitcom doesn't it??;-)) 

"If walls could talk" our secrets would all be revealed.  A home is really just a barrier between us and the world, filled with whatever we feel "at home" with.  Antiques or modern, plush or plain, orderly or pig sty....our choice, our home.  Expression at its most personal level.

I must say I've loved every home I've ever owned or rented and not so much because of a floorplan, size or location but because of what I've put into it.  Pulled it together and made it be ... me.  And truth be told....I do like being with me.  Whatever that may mean at the time.

As I wipe the spider webs from the corners of my soon to be former home, preparing it for a new occupant, in my mind I say "thank you" to this scruffy little space that has protected my mind, body and spirit the last 6 1/2 years. 

It hears me and soothingly replies .... you're welcome my friend, you're welcome......good luck and God speed....