Home is where the heart is...

On this windy sunny Wednesday, Dave and I officially resigned the keys to our canalside perch on the Keizersgracht. Two years of braving new things everyday, but coming home to the same angular walls each night. It was comfort in the midst of a whole bunch of unfamiliar.

I'm not quite sure how Dave and I lucked out with our new place, but then again, I've felt that about every place I've lived. Growing up on Crestline Drive with lots of trees and the pond nearby. Living with Kristen (CW) on Goodrich - being so close to Grand Avenue. Spending a week in my van when my bedroom flooded out (good times, Sara?!). Sleeping on a twin mattress on the floor of Westmount, rooming with Rebecca. A seventeenth-century fourth floor flat with a view in Amsterdam. And now a new stop on the Herengracht.

In the middle of unloading boxes and missing a few familiar comforts from our old place, I recognize that home is where the heart is. Whatever the address or square footage. And there is already much heart planted at our newest postcode. Even Rembrandt is starting to roll with the new squeaks and sounds.

With an affectionate salute to all the experiences had at K44D,
Lynn