I’ve been thinking about this today. Today I visited a lovely friend’s house. It’s a beautiful, spacious interior designed country pile many people would aspire to (it’s sometimes in magazines) but it just didn’t feel like a home. It was almost too perfect and felt lacking in energy. Then I dropped a pair of kids wellies into another friend. Her house is an unremarkable 1960’s semi and is far from ‘perfect’ but always feels so welcoming and homely. I could spend hours on her sofa, staring into the (1980’s gas effect) fire.
What do you think it is that makes a house a home? Is it certain items? A way of living? Or ( this sounds a bit woo) is it something to do with the feelings or relationships in the house?