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What is “home?”

I asked the question, and a lot of you gave very thoughtful responses. Here are some of them, paraphrased and summarized.

Home is where you are heard and appreciated.

Home is where you feel the most comfortable to be yourself.

Home is where love is abundant.

Home is where you are relaxed and free.

Home is that soft place to land, where your heart smiles, and your soul shouts, “yes, this is where I belong.”

Home is different for everyone, and it can change over time.

Home is somewhere you look forward to going each day.

Home is wherever you put down roots.

Home is where you are authentically yourself, and loved unconditionally by yourself and others.

You can have more than one home.

My husband’s answer to what home is, was that it is anywhere I am. Although this caused a bit of friendly teasing from some of you, many of you know that when you have a partner in life, you can choose to go almost anywhere with them and make a new home.

We’ve been living in Hawke’s Bay for 6 months today; we’ve been away from Canada for a bit longer than that, but we’ve been living in this new place for half of a year now. To some that may seem short, while to others it may seem long. To me it seems perfect, because this is exactly where I have needed to be.

So when does it become home? We’ve been proactive at choosing to make this our home, right from the start.

Canada will always be our home. Saskatoon will always be our hometown. I still feel at home every time I visit the camp I grew up attending. I feel at home when we arrive at our favourite lake in Saskatchewan. I feel at home in our camper, wherever we may park it. Hawke’s Bay also feels like home to us now.

We don’t know how long this will be home, but for now, it is home to us. So when you ask us to “come home,” or when we’ll be “coming home,” the answer is, “we’re already home.”

How My Laundry Room Became a Brewery, and My Backyard a Tire Storage Facility

I remember the night I picked a fight with my husband about the laundry room.  I distinctly remember saying something like, “it’s our laundry room, NOT your brewery!”  I look back on that now, and laugh at myself.  I’m thankful he was so patient with me at the time.  There are things that are worth fighting over, and there are things that just aren’t.  I realize now, that the ratio of washer/dryer square footage to brewing equipment in the laundry room is something that just isn’t worth it.  I learned an important lesson after pondering what happened within me that night to cause my anger.  I seemed to think that I had more rights to our laundry room than he did, but that’s just it – it is our laundry room, not mine.

Let’s back up a bit.  I’ll fill you in on my husband’s hobbies.  He’s had a lot of them throughout the length of our marriage, and most haven’t stuck for more than a few years.  It’d be fair to say we regret spending money on some of them now, but he was learning and exploring, and they were important to him at the time.  (I’ve regretted purchases too.) So when he was gifted some beer making supplies and decided he’d take it up, I assumed it would be one of those hobbies that he’d do once or twice, and then let fall along the wayside.

I was wrong.  He is passionate about brewing.

Years, and dozens of home-brewed IPA’s, honey-browns, and English bitters later, he’s got a sizeable brewery in our home, and is constantly stunning tasters of his beer with how great they are.  His friends are benefiting from his generosity and love of sharing his craft with anyone who appreciates it.

He used to take over our kitchen for a day to complete the brewing process, and leave our entire house smelling like sweet malt.  People would ask me, “don’t you hate that he makes your whole house smell like a brewery?”  I didn’t actually.  Or they’d ask, “how come you let your husband take over your whole kitchen for that?”

Although some hobbies were costly, he made money with others – his “side-hustles” as he likes to call them.  He’s very gifted and can fix almost anything.  He’s also patient in dealing with online shoppers from our local used items listing website; he has a small hobby of taking old, broken things, fixing them up, and selling them at low prices for quick turn-over.

At one point, a few years ago, we had close to 50 used tires in our backyard.  I mean, they were everywhere! I borrowed a bunch to take to school for an obstacle course for the kids once; we even threw a Cross-fit themed birthday party for a friend and used them for challenges and a winner’s podium!  Again with the comments, and from the guys too! “My wife would never let me keep junk like that in our backyard.”  “How do you get her to let you fill your backyard with all those tires?” That’s sad to me, that my guy friends felt that way about their wives.

In his brewing craft, he started where most probably do, with beer kits.  Then, he transitioned to doing a few more steps on his own, and after his beer club informed him that if he’s using any part of a kit, he can’t really call it home-brew, he went 100% from the grain.  He literally buys a big bag of malted barley, grinds it himself, and does it completely from scratch.  The kitchen was no longer sufficient.  As he just happens to also be a custom welder, he spent the next year building a huge custom brewery in our basement laundry room.  He’s got 3 massive tanks that he welded, a custom counter and sink, heating systems, an electrical panel to run all of this, piping that hooks up to our laundry venting to the outside to eliminate the steam, numerous other equipment, and hundreds of bottles.

Needless to say, the laundry room is no longer a laundry room; we have a brewery with a washer and dryer in it.

We have a clean and empty backyard now that he’s out of the “tire side hustle,” but there were years when we barely had a backyard; we had a used tire storage facility behind the house.

Fast forward to the laundry room argument… pointless.  It’s not my laundry room, it’s our laundry room.  Can I wash clothes in there?  Maybe not while he’s brewing, but that’s where communication comes in.  It’s not my backyard, it’s our backyard.  Could I have hosted a beautiful garden party with all those tires out there?  Maybe not, but I hosted a pretty sweet birthday party and made the best of it.

So many women carry this idea that the house is their domain; at the very least, the kitchen, laundry room, and back garden are theirs.  The guys can have the garage, or the shed, or maybe some back room in the basement, where guests can’t see when they come over.  I don’t know why we think this, or why this idea is passed on to us by other women.  I don’t know why I just fell into that belief too, without even paying attention to it or questioning it.  I’ve realized over the years, that thinking this house is mine, because I’m the wife, isn’t very selfless or loving.  He doesn’t tell me I can’t park in the garage because he works in there; it’s our garage.  He doesn’t complain about the living room clock that’s a bright red high heel (it’s not tacky at all people, it’s a designer marble clock we picked up in Venice); in fact, he suggested we hang it there so I can see it every day.  We’ve also hung his motorcycle calendars in the kitchen.

It’s not my house, it’s our house.  And in this house, it’s about sharing, and compromising, and making this home a place that we both can put our stamp on, and that we both feel at home in.

I don’t know what this guy of mine is going to get into next.  I expect he’ll keep up the brewing, because he’s great at it, and he loves it.  I hope he finds more money-making hobbies, cause what’s not to love there?  Either way, he’ll be welcome to use our home, for what he needs it for, with no trouble from me; in return, I know I’ll be extended the same courtesy.