I simply said it in passing. But something like that weighs more when the words are left lingering in the air. I told JD it didn't feel like home. Like home home. I love our place, but I haven't done a thing to make it our own. I blame work, my schedule, my commitment issues (choosing paint has been like choosing puppies), but the fact of the matter is simply I haven't done it. My walls were white, and my windows were naked.
When I came home from the Cayman Islands last week, I walked into a new living room. Pewter walls, white wood shutters, and weathered furniture. JD just didn't hear what I was saying, he listened. What's more, he remembered my fondness of blue glass. JD visited a vintage store in Orange and handpicked a few details...and made my heart melt. We still have a long way to go, but home has never felt so good.