[Image] Special thanks to Elizabeth's needlework designI have had a craptastic day today. It all started when some jerk cut me off and then almost ran into me on my way to work. It all continued downhill from there. All I could think about today was coming home, which then got me to thinking about-what is home to me? What does it mean?

It's the rush of barking and jumping and kisses I receive from three silly little dogs when I walk through the door.

It's the perfect strawberry in my garden

It's the birds bathing in the pond.

It's a husband that loves me and knows to give me extra hugs because I am having a rough day.

It's my friends that make me laugh and remind me never to take anything to seriously.

A home is not just a roof over your head. Home is a special place in your heart. It allows you to feel safe and comfortable when the rest of the world is crazy around you. It doesn't have to be made of wood or bricks. It is made of love and happiness. Home can be anywhere in the world where you are smiling. Whether I am in here in Portland or visiting a friend on the other side of the world-I am home.