For 19 years of my life I called a particular house in happy-ville utah "home". I still get excited when i take the 15 minute drive from my new city to my old one.
I love that place.
I love just about everything about it.
But mostly I love the people in it.

for 21 years Brandon called a house {6 houses up from mine mind you} home.
I love the people in that house too.

But now Brandon and I have a new home. Our first home. And although we still have to clarify which home we are talking about (all 3 houses are still called home) ours is really starting to become "home" for us.

for example, after FHE the other night we took a walk around our city. we LOVE our city. I dream of buying all the old buildings on Center Street and promising the good citizens of Provo that I'll never tear them down. We love the little shops and the funny people who run them. We love the buildings and the love that was put into making them so very many years ago. We love the good selection of thai food in our neck of the woods. However we've made a few poor choices in restaurants that have resulted in food poisoning. poor boy. After a very unpleasant night and rough morning i asked him if he wanted to go home.

to which he replied "we are home."

this 350 sq foot shack of love is our home now.
and oh how I love it so!

I love our wood floors (even though they may splinter)
and I love our wavy glass windows (even though they let the cold in)
I love our years of wallpapered walls
and the paint Brandon guinessly inveted
I love my split-pea-soup colored kitchen
and our cut glasses we got from savers
I love our new/old sheets we found at DI (don't judge...we washed them on several cycles)
I love our empty picture frame that sits slightly askew (i swear that thing keeps me sane)
and our collection of nick-nacks that fill our shelves
i love our 3 ft. closet and our laundry basket Brandon titled "dirty rubbish clothes"
and yes i even love our popcorn ceiling.
{cause i about broke my back over that thing...it will be loved}

but it's not all the little nick-nacks that make this place home.
it's us.
it's him.

it's hearing his bob dylan CD blaring from his car telling me he's home from work.
it's saturdays that mean sleeping in until the sun from our giant window wakes my face.
it's turning over and seeing him greet with a sleepy smile.
it's sleepy kisses and dancing to the white stripes.

last semester I did a photographic documentation of our "home"
i think i shall post it soon.


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