Hello friends.
Thank you for being here. I appreciate your presence and hope that you will enjoy a wonderful May week. It’s a bit hard to believe that we’re coming up on the halfway point for the year 2024. I’ve been writing here now for 6 months next week, which is almost inconceivable to me. Substack has really brought me back into a writing rhythm, and I’m enjoying stretching this muscle.
A special thank you to my paid subscribers. In June, Creative Thursdays will be a twice-monthly feature for paid subscribers, plus Subscriber Saturday, in which we delve deeply into many different topics, from happiness and support to Italy to our future selves. I’d love if you would join me there.
Home and Place
It might seem like a forgone conclusion, but home is the most important place.
Home is easily overlooked in its importance and can be taken for granted; all the while, it’s there waiting quietly for our gratitude. So many don’t have one, or have one that can’t do its duty of sheltering because of natural, personal and political circumstance. How unbelievably fortunate to have a place that’s capable of fulfilling its pledge.
The word “home” origins from the Middle English hom meaning dwelling or building in one’s native town or on one’s land. It also goes back to the Germanic haima (which, in modern German is Heimat, or the place of one’s home) and Gothic haims, which refers to village and country side.
All of this suggests the true meaning of home is not simply about bricks and mortar, but also strongly refers to place: town, village, hamlet, or even street. The inference is deeply personal and houses many more elements than the four walls we often refer to has home.
This deeper reflection of home has at times alluded me. My childhood home, perhaps like yours, was rife with stress and generational trauma, but it was a place that was well kept, with good intentions, structure and genuine love and concern for one another. For that I am grateful.
It occurred to me early on that I lacked home in the true definition - of course I feel at home with my partner, my family, my friends. But moving so much and to such an extreme measure disconnected me from any deep rooted sense of place.
Since graduating college, I’ve lived in 16 different residences in three countries. That’s a lot of curtain sewing, cable company changing, and picture hanging.
And emotional adjusting.
All that moving and change was challenging. Sitting on the floor of my house in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania after the furniture movers had packed and shipped everything to go to Germany, I thought to myself, I don’t think I can do this again. I had already lived on both coasts and reinvented myself, and my home, six times. And I was about to embark on a journey that would see several more major moves.
Every time we move, there’s a little bit of trauma. It comes from the process of de-rooting, much like when a plant is transplanted, and has a few days of weakness before being able to re-establish itself.
We give a plant going through transplantation shock extra water and care during that period, but often, with ourselves, we just hustle through, getting things in order, feeling the undercurrent of discomfort but not actually questioning or acknowledging it. Anyone who’s moved a few time probably recognises this.
It takes time for a place to become home. And for home to be of place.
I’m highlighting our home today because I was reminded this week of the deep gratitude I have for this very special place. It’s a gem of a home. I never thought we would be able to live in a home like this, much less own it.
We live in a Black Forest village of 320 people, with the woods surrounding the valley. It’s primarily a farming village, with a few newer houses on the outskirts that have been built by commuters. But the center of town is completely under historic preservation; no contemporary houses can be constructed here.
We will have been in this traditional German home for 10 years in August, which is one of the longest stints I’ve had in one place. We bought this house after having sold our Bed and Breakfast in Italy, a project which was incredibly beautiful and at the same time draining and, for me, emotionally taxing. I was looking for a bastion of safety and rest at the time, and this house gave us that and more. It also had a beautiful finished area for a pottery studio, the correct type of electrical connection for a kiln, and a wine cellar - all things that were important to us.
The house, a 1830 “Fachwerk” (exposed timber) structure had great bones when we bought it and needed little more than decorative work. But there were and still are large, unrestored barn spaces to add to living space. We’ve created a new kitchen and dining area out of a part of the barn that we use for private parties for clients and friends. Currently there are approximately 2500 sf of living space with another 1000 of barn that could be restored. The kitchen and the back shelving were hand built from black steel by a talented blacksmith.
The living room is really the heart of this house, with wooden hand built windows and lime plastered walls.
The house has a back garden of about a quarter acre, large enough for vegetable gardens and a patio area.
We still use the original kitchen and “Stube” which is considered the heart of a southern German home.
My favourite room is my office, which is also the sun room, and home to my infamous aging Green Sofa, on which all types of Big Life Things has been discussed.
The older parts of the house still need tender loving care. These beautiful structures are a labor of passion and love. We’re still tending to certain things - a lick of paint here, a bit of sanding there. But the truth is, this place is comfortable, stylish and has so much soul, that I couldn’t ask for more from a place to live. It’s wonderful. I am not just grateful but also a little in awe.
There’s one more question I ask myself after a decade in this house. Is this house home for us in that broader sense of place? It’s a question I cannot answer right now. But I do know this: I’ve felt the deeper meaning of home here. And for as long as we are here, whether for a year or for all our days, I will be grateful, every single moment.
What I’m reading:
This essay by my friend
about May and other things.An article about being good enough by
(whose book CREATE you can see in two of the pictures above)What I’m doing:
Glazing, people, glazing. Our line in the sand date to go to Italy is a week from tomorrow. This means back to back glaze firings this week, with a little gardening thrown in for good measure. I don’t know what I am going to do with my seedlings while I’m away, I’m starting to fret…
I’m working on my FUTURE SELF plan. More on this coming. Hint: the word retirement is not to be found anywhere.
What I’m cooking:
Look at this delicious Lemon Basil Orzo and Chicken Thighs from
🧡‘Tis the season! All about the outdoor lunch (and the set up that makes it perfect) from
Have a great week.
Love,
Diana
Love your home and the photos. Looks like you’ve found your spot. I too have moved around a lot and making it in one place for 10+ years is a real coup. Felicidades!
What a beautiful place 😮 I’m happy you’ve found a place that feels like home. I don’t know where that is for me yet, so I’m cultivating the feeling internally for now!