My home smells like my grandma's house. I came back in after walking B to her car, and coffee and bread scents wafted into my nose.
Home. This is my home.
It helps so much to have friends to show around; helps so much to look at a couch and think, "So & so sat there, and we talked about this and this." I belong here, and I can welcome others into it.
I feel like a loser those times when Facebook is my only friend on a Friday or Saturday night, and I'm careful not to comment anywhere with a time stamp so people won't realize I didn't have anyone to socialize with between seven and 10:30 on a weekend. But B came over today, and Bkl will be over tomorrow. Beautiful A helped me for more than two hours last Sunday as we got ready for my mom's 60th birthday celebration.
When I realized today how long B had been here, it occurred to me that even though I don't have a group of "hangout" friends, I have "three hour" friends. Dear God, thank You for these ladies.
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