Hearting Home

"Now you have to get a Christmas tree," Annie told me Monday after giving me the ornament above, which she purchased at Hilo Hatti's in Honolulu. 

I actually had wavered about getting a tree with so few days left before Christmas, but it's easy to forget sometimes how much home and the symbolic aspects associated with every season of coming home mean to those who travel to share the season with us.

Yes, Annie, that ornament will be hanging on a Christmas tree when you come home Saturday.  And, yes, I heart Hawaii.

I don't think anyone will spank me when I say that I heart home much more than anyplace else on Earth, even Ireland.

This morning I'm hearting many aspects of our return to the Lovestead yesterday. 

To prepare for Annie's homecoming Saturday, we needed to stop at Co-Op to get some new extension cords after some of our collection suffered a major blow-out this past summer. 

I also picked up some more peanuts because Elisabeth told me that Mr. Jay had hung around in our absence.  

Our trip to Co-Op gave us the first sense of hearting home as we enjoyed some wonderful conversations with Nancy and Michelle who work the counters at the country store. 

Then, on to Selle, into the driveway and a dramatically quiet walk to the garage door.  I don't usually knock at our closed garage door, but it seemed like a fun thing to do yesterday. 

I knew that 12 legs with two wagging tails and one mini Aussie wiggling dock stood on the other side. 

I opened the door, and we were met with a greeting made in Heaven. Kiwi, Kea and Foster embraced us, cried, wiggled and generally let us know they were happy to see us.

From the minute I walked inside the house until I visited the barn, except for the pile of mail and newspapers, the scenes appeared if we had never left home. 

The house was immaculate, a fire simmered in the wood stove----the place looked untouched.  Barn stalls were clean and ready for horses to come in. In the pasture, Lefty and Lily gave us an extra special look of recognition. 

Festus looked up at me in his usual lounging spot on the front deck and purred.  Festus does well at purring. 

A few minutes later after throwing some peanuts on the board at the bird feeder, I saw that Elisabeth, our farmsitter, had added an extra touch in her meticulous care of our home during our absence.  

A second jay of the stellar variety flew immediately to the board, snatched a peanut and flew back to a spruce limb to consume it. 

Wow, this lady is the farmsitter from Heaven, I thought.   I had asked her to put out the peanuts as often as possible because I wanted Mr. Jay to stay, and, by golly, she attracted yet another of those demanding but beautiful birds to the feeder.

I have to sing great praises for Elisabeth, and I sang her a few with a text shortly after we arrived home.

"I love them as if they were my own," she wrote back in regard to the animals.  It doesn't get any better than that when you leave your home and your beloveds in the care of someone else.  

And, it was apparent that during our eight-day absence, Elisabeth loved the animals and the place as if it were her own.

That care led to a wonderful homecoming for us, and we are so grateful to this lady who saw to it that we could leave home virtually without a care in the world.  

Yes, Hawaii was a great and fun adventure, but I must end this Wednesday morning with Dorothy's famous saying, "There's no place like home . . . there's NO place like home."  

Thank you, Elisabeth, and thanks to all who enjoyed our adventure vicariously through the wonders of technology.  It was truly fun to share.  

Happy Wednesday, and back to the Christmas decorating so that when Annie comes on Saturday, she'll feel the same way about home as we do.