My thoughts turned to home the last few days. But it wasn't my actual, current home that filled my mind but the concept of home.
I think it started the other day when my beloved commented that I always called our new place by the street name and referred to her place as home. And I call my Dad's old place "the farm" now even though it is less farm now than ever before.
Then at the office we had a meeting about some projects we are considering to promote the development of "the farm" and that naturally led to a nostalgic look down the memories of my mind.
Mind you they aren't the historically accurate memories necessarily but those happy, idealized memories. I probably could get the historically accurate ones but the idealized ones are more pleasant and easier to reach.
I was still thinking about it as I drove home today. My beloved's childhood home came into view as I approached our turn. It is more than 100 years old. There is an old cellar on one side. We just put a new door on that cellar and we are cleaning it out. Turns out there is an old well down there that is fed by a spring. There is a pump that no longer works that took care of any excess water. So the old cellar had water in it that had to be pumped out.
There were old Mason jars in that cellar that had been put down there no telling how long ago. We'll keep the empties but the others will be discarded along with now unidentifiable contents.
I noticed two cars there in the drive as I turned the corner. I knew they belonged to the oldest child and the youngest. They were there visiting their mother who did not know they were coming.
That's when it occurred to me that one of the major things about home is that it is a place you can go where you are always welcome and you never have to call ahead.
Undoubtedly there is more that defines the concept of home but I like that one.