Friday, November 13


I am a homebody.

Home is my instrument.

Sometimes in the morning it is a peaceful sonnet as the world is just waking and I am here with my tea in hand, raising a hand to part the curtain and see what the day holds.

The tempo rises as feet add their music on the stairs. It is sentimental as morning kisses on the head are given and little ones begin vying for a leg to hold as breakfast is stirred, sippy cups filled, chores are hurried along.

At noon, after runs for visitation or freshly home from co-op lessons, our home is a buzz of jumping fiddlers, dancing, spinning, full of life and vigor, a sugar high melody before the afternoon nap-time crash into pillows and soft beds.

It becomes liturgical and calming mid afternoon, when little heads join me over steaming mugs and a good book, a special tea-time spread.

Home is my instrument. I tend it and tune it and coax life and love into it. The instrument reflects the care of this musician, subtleties in mood and in the seasons of life. The loveliness of its tune falls prey to my weariness, to teething babies, to squabbling siblings.

With a house full of guests, it plays an entertaining melody. Children add their staccato and harmony into a blend of joyful mayhem as the music carries on while the swish of the broom and the hum of the dryer add to the chorus.

Home is my instrument.


Diane said...

It is very true of you.

I have an award for you over at my blog. Have a great weekend! :O)

Happy Hermit ( said...

I never thought of it like that.

Hannah said...

This is just a beautiful, beautiful post. I read your blog often but have never commented. This is how I think of my home as well, but I have never been able to put it in words like this. Thank you.

Jen said...

The is just lovely! How wounderful to be able to find the words to express that... and to find the blessing, grace and reward in being a a mom & homemaker.

Love it!

Teena said...

edgiThanks so much... so very true.