In lieu of trying to belong to any number of societies: Chesterton, Sherlock Holmes, the Inklings, and so on: I propose and establish one of my own. Don your intelligence cap at the door; dust off your logic and imagination; did you bring your inspiration and encouragement? We are shapers, my friends; lit lamps; light-bringers. Bring quotes; poetry should be uplifting and thoughtful, or witty and clever, (or both). Humor is encouraged; laughter is invited back. Pull up a chair. Anyone for tea?

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Home



I'm reading up on the Lanier posts I've missed, and in her review of The Lifegiving Home she says,

"[Describe] the one thing about your place on earth that most speaks 'home' to you"

I'm a bit late in the proceedings to put my thoughts in the comment section, so I'll put them here:

Food. That's it more than anything else, for me. Stepping across the threshold to the rich fragrance of a roast, with carrots and gravy. Or stirring up a potent curry, steaming rice, and having someone walk in and say they could smell it the minute they reached our corner of the block. Tea, well-steeped: offering a cup to someone as soon as they come in; two-handing a steaming mug after school or work while Mama cooks. The kitchen is my home on earth, I think; however much I love and need books in my life, or intelligent conversation. Feeding people is that down-to-earth connection and love that means home to me. Extending and accepting hospitality: whether that's a cup of tea in a tent, or a jar of nutella while I sit on your kitchen counter. Even when I'm not in my own house, cooking, eating, or sharing a cup of tea will always be that moment of home.
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