I'm not sure where I thought I would live when I grew up. I certainly didn't picture this. I have, admittedly, always liked the kind of home where people feel comfortable dropping by. This is that home.
In the past I have been known to drop to the floor and hide when people came by if the house wasn't clean or if I hadn't showered or whatever. I do not have that opportunity here because a) they can see me on the floor and b) my husband is likely to let them in while I am hiding. Having a window in the front door is not always that handy. Like yesterday when my 4 year old and I were dancing in the hall (I was teaching her to fling her hair - we were listening to Fat Boy Slim). We were busted by a musician, coming to record a cover of "Because". These things happen.
Our home has a sort of handmade quality to it. Not necessarily in a good way. Not all bad, either. For example, our floors are wide antique pine. Beautiful, but you could lose a ping pong ball down some of the cracks. We have a lot of vision and not so much of an attention span. We are distracted by shiny objects, phone calls and snack time.
Mmm, snack time....