In moving around so much since graduating high school, I've learned a few things about making a new enviroment feel like home. Sometimes it's something small like finding a new favorite restaurant nearby or realizing you're in walking distance of a fun park. Being close to family and friends always helps too. The move to Arizona has been a little more difficult than my other moves. My previous post mentions all the little things we miss (including family and friends) so, needless to say, we have to get creative in making this our new home.
Jake and I grew up on opposite ends of Utah, so "home" is different for both of us. For me, growing up in a small town means knowing your neighbors and classmates and everyone else in town. It means 4 wheeling and shotgun shooting and chasing rabbits for fun. It also means dairy farms and pig farms and lots of wonderful manure smells, especially on summer days. For Jake, growing up in a much larger town means graduating with 800 plus classmates and going to a grocery store without knowing every single person you see. It means going to skate parks and skiing and having a job that doesn't require you to milk cows or herd cattle. It also means having movie theaters and bowling alleys and shopping malls within 5 miles rather than 50. So, I'll admit, one thing I really love about where we live now is the mysterious manure/alfalfa smell that lingers in the air and the huge empty dirt lot below our balcony where people come to play when it rains and turns to mud. Ask Jake how he feels about that smell however, and you'll get his notorious "ham and swiss" face (story for another time, just know it's not a good face).
Miraculously, despite our different comforts of home, we both looked at each other one night and agreed that we were home. It was Christmas night and we had just driven 8 hours from my mom's house where we had spent our holiday. We were tired and didn't want to unpack and just wanted to flop on the couch and do nothing. We had some gifts to open so we did that and then decided we could call it a night. While we were getting ready for bed it just hit me. We were home. I told Jake about my moment of clarity and he agreed.
So what makes this feel like home? Having lunch together every day while I'm still looking for a job, cooking dinner every night instead of going out (while we were in the process of moving we lived in a hotel for a week and had to eat out more than either of us would like to do again. So much that our first home cooked meal made me deathly ill!) Sunday morning breakfast in bed, being able to drive somewhere without using the GPS, becoming attached to a grocery store close by, and driving 100 miles for an enormously huge employment opportunity (another story for another day, it was more than worth it).
Guess what people?! We live in Arizona and it's home.
