Right now I'm in the middle of a move and I've realized that I don't exactly have a stable thought on what constitutes "home" for me. When I'm here, home is 500 miles away where my family and friends are. When I'm there, "home" is here where my husband and animals are. When I'm pragmatic about it, "home" is wherever my loved ones are, and those I love are scattered about. When I'm being a little more nostalgic, "home" is where my heart lies - in the middle of the north-central PA wilderness with my horses and the last trappings of my adolescence. So where is home for me? Do I actually have one? Do I actually want one? Do I need one?
Ideally if I were to have a home, I would buy up a large tract of land in Northeastern PA and buy up a bunch of trailers and create a compound for my family and friends to all gather around and be close, sort of like a modern day commune or camp. But everyone else has other plans and nobody would actually buy into the idea, so it's a moot point.
Secondarily I'd like my home to have space for animals and my animal rescue endeavors - enough place for a sanctuary and a boarding facility.
Most of all, though, I just wish I could make a home with my loved ones. My husband, my Love, and any others in their lives. But it'll never happen. A girl can dream though, right? -Squeaky
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