I read Rosamunde Pilcher’s, The Shell Seekers, 20 or so years ago when it first became popular. I loved her books so much that I have read each and every one of them at least twice and I keep them all with my favorite books. What I couldn’t seem to get enough of was that the stories were about homes and gardens and how they make us feel; more importantly how they should make us feel. Growing a garden to actually make your meals and cooking food rather than opening a can and heating it up. I was thoroughly intrigued by all of this, not that I did not have a good upbringing, I certainly did, but life in her books revolved around making the home a place of comfort and renewal, not just to go to sleep and take a shower. In reading her novels I was determined to make a home like the ones she described. Comforting and welcoming and refreshing. Peace should start at home, it literally has to.
A proper home does not just mean clean sheets and a hot shower. It should mean a comfortable chair with a good lamp to read; An uncluttered kitchen with work spaces to make meals; A potted plant here and there; Hot nourishing soup simmering on the stove; Music playing; Everything you have in your home you should truly love for one reason or another. Love it because of its memory or if its ugly and it just belongs there then its your reason for loving it and having it in your home. A real home is for living. I have never understood houses that are enormous. How do you live like that? Yes, space is one thing but vast open spaces as a home are not what I would call comforting.