29th August 2013
I love my home. I love all the memories I have of every nook and cranny, I love how comfy the sofas are, and I love remembering the sofas as they used to be during games with my brother and sister. I love the cool tiles on the floor, and how different they are to the carpets that were there before them. I love seeing it full of everyone I love, and hearing the din of the kids playing something potentially slightly too exciting. I love seeing it empty, like this, when I come downstairs and have a day to relax. I love seeing the trees change throughout the year, the point when they leaves seem to dump all at once, and suddenly we can see the main road again. I love kneeling up on the sofa and peering through the blinds waiting for people to arrive, holding up children to see and wave. I love kneeling up on the sofa and peering through the blinds when someone has cried "it's snowing!" and everyone is jostling for position, holding up children to see and exclaim. I love the unbelievably loud stairs and trying to step lightly so they don't creak like a fairy tale. I love the games I used to play on the stairs, and when my brother used to pretend to fall down them after he'd put me to bed.
I love the colours, the smells, the people, and the name. I love Pogles Wood, I love spelling it out to people "Pogles Wood, p o g *pause* l e s...wood".
I love my home.