I like the way  my mother's house smells like summer.
Like clean clothes.
That scent you always associate with summer but can never fully identify.
I like how you can slide down the uneven halls in socks.
How there's always at least one  light bulb out somewhere.
In the backyard there are random bunches of daffodils
Taken and replanted from my grandparents old house by the river, where there was a mountain of daffodils.
It reminds me of my childhood.
At the front of my house there's a huge pine tree. That I like to sit under and read.
I like how there is little weeds peaking up from the cracks in the sidewalk all around my house
I like how when it storms I  can hear my dog barking.
Well till it effects my sleep.
I love the old green couch that was my great grandmother's
it once smelled of her.
It's kinda covered in dog hair now..
But her desk sits next to it. Perfect.
Relatively untouched with a thin layer of dust covering it.
I love the big window in the front room that you can sit in front of for hours just watching the world go by.
I like my house.
I didn't for the longest time but now I do.
I like my house but I love my home.
You don't get a home  right from when you buy or build a house it comes with time. When you make memories with your family. Love. Laughter
I like all those things I talked about earlier.
But family, and love make a house a home.