I am on my couch in my (still, I guess) new house.

Four inches of snow sits on the ground, the wind is whipping and the temperature is in the teens, but It feels warmer and more secure against the elements than my old house did.

In the past three days I have made homemade tomato sauce, carnitas and jambalaya, so it smells like good, hot meals.

There is nothing here that was not put here by me or chosen by me. This place has come to feel more like home to me in the past 30 days than the old house did in nearly ten years.

George approves too.