What makes a house a home?

Roses are yellow, violets are blue, clicking the pics is long overdue.

Very tiny, very delicate, high country wildflowers.

I was at the local True Value hardware store the other day. Since they refill propane tanks, and since I keep the little Bronco camper on my truck all summer, I had them top up the little Bronco's 5-gallon propane tank, so now it's ready to go if I decide on a place and a time that I want to go somewhere.

I always keep some clothes, a shaving kit, some canned food, a couple of gallons of Walmart water, and of course some coffee-making supplies in the little Bronco all the time, so I can head for the high country whenever I feel like it, or boondock someplace overnight that I hadn't planned on. Of course, I don't often do that, but it gives me a feeling of freedom knowing that I can. And sometimes, the perception of freedom can be just as effective as freedom itself.

My family went to a wedding in another town for the weekend, so I'm watching the house while they're gone. This gave me a chance to do some laundry. I'm welcome to do laundry in their house anytime I want, but I don't like to disturb anyone, and they're already doing so much for me. So I prefer to wash my clothes when no one's home to bother.

One thing that is very noticeable when I walk into their temporarily deserted house is how silent it is; It seems lifeless inside. And it's because of the kids; the kids are always running around doing something and usually making a bunch of noise while doing it.

But I think I've discovered that despite what I thought earlier, it's not really noise; it's actually the sound of living, the sound of life, the sound of happiness, the sound of joy. It's the sounds that bring life to an empty house and turn a house into a home.

                                                 Theboondork

Some of my daughter's roses.

My Granddaughter with her actual real smile, and not the cheesy fake one she uses when I ask her to smile for the camera.

This is The Green Cat Art Gallery in Salida Colorado, where I knocked on the door and offered them my artsy photographs for free, and they locked the door and called the police.... They obviously have no appreciation of real art, which should be expected considering they apparently have no knowledge of the colors cats come in !