My front door needs to go away. It’s nasty. It’s the original door to the house, built in 1980. It’s a steel door and has several coats of paint but rust has eaten through in several places and paint is flaking. In deciding to replace the door, we’ve not determined on a replacement. We have something in mind for what type we want, but have not found what we’re looking for. I always feel guilty when someone new approaches the entryway, with it being the first impression of my home. In retrospect, I have to say first impressions are not important unless your home is on the market. My home is a safe haven. It may not be a showplace, but it’s the sanctuary where my family gathers to share their happiness, sorrows, plans, worries, failures and successes. We eat together, play together, sing songs, watch movies, disagree, stream silly YouTube videos, take care of farm animals and laugh together. It’s a place where I hang my apron. While it’s true, we love our dwelling place, it’s neither the house nor the landscaping in which we’re proud, although we enjoy the natural setting of trees and azaleas. We enjoy our home for what it is, a gathering place. The work that must take place in an older home is never-ending. We always have an on-going project: replacing, repairing or remodeling. We call it a homestead, because we try, in a small way, to use the land to be somewhat self-sufficient. Being a homestead calls for creative work to take place regularly, so visitors will always see something happening at my house. This is not a bad thing as home is also a place where work takes place. At daybreak you will hear a rooster crow, (many times), and mid morning a hen will share her pride of a freshly laid egg with a clucking song. Home is different for everyone. For some it’s a state of mind, for others it’s a specific place. For me and my family it’s where we gather to share life. The front door will be replaced shortly, and a fresh coat of paint will be applied to the railing. But the open door to our home is what’s comforting to all of us.
This article originally appeared on Santa Rosa Press Gazette: Hanging my apron at home