What makes a house a home?

It's exciting when people move, isn't it? Even when it's not you that's moving. Personally, I love to hear about moving. All the furniture and choosing and rearranging. All the busyness...it's like choosing a new life, isn't it?
Not really, I know, but just for a while, you think...'Yeah, I could be someone who sleeps in that kind of bed or owns that desk'.
Like you could be someone new. Like you could take one some kind of new personality from your furniture and become who you always wanted to be.
Funny thing is...it's the other way around.

The place we inhabit becomes a little more like us each day. Even if we do get that bed or that desk, we won't become the person who owns that kind of furniture. It will become the kind of furniture that is owned by us.

What makes a house a home?

Trinkets.
The little things.

• The stain on the carpet that won't come out. You hate it and keep saying you'll get a new one, but if you did, it wouldn't feel like home anymore. It would just be something you bought from the store.

• The cheap toys you get from your local supermarket's ad campaign. The Kinder Surprise toys!
  

• The piles of junk you don't know what to do with and can't seem to get rid of. The mountains upon mountains of stuff, of old Tshirts and sweaters you never wanted, that awkward gift from your grandmother you don't know what to do with.

• The tins and pans that are rusty or are missing a handle, but that you never threw out 'cause hey, you might fix it.

• Your stuffed toy that still sleeps in your bed or, at the very least, has an honorary seat on the bookshelf.

• Stickers that you found in some kids' book or got as some promotion and put up around the house and now, they won't come off.

• A poster of your favorite band.
  

• That one wall (or walls?) your kid drew on when they were small and you've never had the heart to paint over it. Admit it, you kinda love it.

• The fridge magnet collection. The ones you brought home from your family vacations and the ones your friends brought you. My grandmother has this insane collection, covering most of the fridge – I don't even know how many of us contributed to that magnet collection. It makes her happy.

• The coffee mugs – you know what I'm talking about, the one from when your friend went to Paris and the one your mom got you as a gift five years ago and the one you loved and bought at that fancy store in town. And now there's this assemble of mugs and you sort of drink from all of them.

• Your old plant. Even for those who aren't good with plants.
  

• Old chargers from cell phones you owned twelve years ago. They don't even fit anymore, you don't know how you got half of them or what you did with them. All you know is they're there, in the drawer.

• The socks! Can't leave out the socks. Some missing their other half, many torn and faded. Embarassing if someone were to see you with them. But they're not your “world socks”, they're your home socks. Worn-in. Kinda like the house.

• The door mat with the sweet message printed on it.

• The water tap that never fully stops leaking, unless you tilt it a certain way and guests never know how. It's like an 'in' secret...

• The DVD collection. You can tell a lot about people from their DVD collection.
  

• The washing on the line.

• The dishes.

• The clutter.

All these things are treasures. Furniture may make the place look like a house, but it's all these trinkets that make it lived-in. That make it ours.

Here's to trinkets. 'Cause a pretend house that would be neat and lacking all these little things would be very sad, indeed.
Sort of like a pretend life...

To trinkets! And to home!