When I pull into my neighborhood, I feel at home. As I drive in, I see my neighbors walking their dog, walking with their kids, and kids riding their bikes with friends. I know these people, they are my neighbors. I make it a point to wave to them, to talk to them, and to engage with them.
As I turn into my driveway, I look at my yard. I love my yard. I’ve worked on it, it’s tough…but worth it. Cutting, edging, blowing, trimming and planting my favorite plants and shrubs. But it’s mine!
I walk up my front porch and turn the doorknob to my house. It’s unlocked. It probably shouldn’t be, but I know it’s fine. It’s safe. I walk in the door and my dog barks and barks (too loudly) and greets me. Talk about unconditional love! My kids are playing in the background and my wife yells ‘Hey babe’ from somewhere in our cluttered, unclean, perfect house.
I smell the smells of diced onions, peppers, and whatever else is going on in the kitchen. Our kitchen. I hear the sounds of pots and pans crashing, the kids unloading the dishwasher, and of course our dog Max getting in the way around everyone’s feet.
I walk out to the back screened in porch for a quick second before helping. Our screened in porch. Everyone knows in Charleston, the screened porch is probably the most-used room in the house. My house. Our house.
I am so grateful for everything that I have. I’m so grateful for anyone reading this. But this is what I do. I don’t sell houses- I provide the opportunity for someone to carve out their special place in this crazy world to call their own.
AND I LOVE IT.
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