Home is about much more than a specific place. It is a feeling, it is the people, it is moments, strange senses that you cannot even explain.
Here are some of mine:
Tea
The smell of my mum's laundry detergent
The sound of BBC Radio 4 being played in 3 different rooms and each one slightly out of sync with the others
My mother's loud infectious laughter - usually at some evening BBC show (greame norton / strictly come dancing etc)
The secret scraping of dishes in the kitchen after a good meal
The post coming through the letter box that little bit too late
Dad grumbling to himself about [insert anything]
Unfinished crosswords lying on the dining room table, with 2 or 3 clues that me and my dad spent hours trying to work out, only to be finished off in seconds by my mum
The precise kerplunk of my sister shutting her door
The sound of the wooden stairs, and knowing exactly who it is just by the sound and pattern of the footsteps
The next door neighbour's cat poking his head hopefully through the living room window, and quickly scarpering as soon as it hears my dad's voice
The night time screaches from foxes and owls in the trees behind my garden
Early morning screaming from nextdoors' children
Fresh coffee on a Sunday morning
The well-lived in sofas welcoming familiar back-sides
My sister and I sitting with the cushions on top of our laps - even though we never really worked out why we do this... some weirdo comfort thing.
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