Something PW said on her blog this morning got me thinking. I really am a homebody. I have always kind of known that I was. Because I am happy to stay at home as much as possible. I don't often feel compelled to "go somewhere" just to "get out of the house".
Oh, don't get me wrong, I love to socialize. I said I was a homebody, not a hermit.
I like going out with friends and attending events and parties, BBQs, baseball games. (Go Padres!)
In fact, we love to entertain at our place just as much as we love going to our friends' houses.
And, I love to get away, too. Vacations are good. Tropical destinations are always my favorite kind of escape but gimme a poolside lounge chair in Palm Springs and I am a happy camper just the same. But you know what I have realized about getting away? That coming back home is often the very best part.
Home. Back to my nest. Back to the familiarity of my stuff.
I love my home. My couch, my books, my bed. My floor beneath my bare feet. My own coffeepot. My backyard and garden, my oasis.
Sometimes, I just never want to leave. Do you ever feel that way?