Kristan Hoffman - Writing Dreams Into Reality
Mon Jan 13 2014

An incomplete history of places I’ve called home

This post was inspired by Shari’s “Home Sweet Home.”

1.

A simple brick townhouse at the end of the row. Two stories tall, with a small courtyard and a single-car garage. We had a soft blue sofa against one wall, and a baby grand piano by the window. We kept our pet rabbit in a cage in the kitchen.

I remember sitting in the back of my dad’s study while he worked, reading the 1983 Farmer’s Almanac and declaring Thomas Jefferson my favorite president. I remember the big vanity in my parents’ bedroom where my mom would brush my hair, and I would point out lumps in my ponytail in the mirror. I remember trying to slide down the stairs on my stomach and getting rug burn. I remember looking out my bedroom window and imagining I could fly.

2.

A one-story “ranch” in the back corner of a tree-lined, U-shaped street. (But we don’t call them ranches in Texas, because that term means something else here.) The owner before us was a middle-aged playboy who bricked over the yard so he wouldn’t have to mow. There’s a fireplace in the center of the house, allowing both sides of the living room to enjoy the warmth and the flickering light.

I remember climbing up to the split-level library and sliding the bookcase back to reveal a secret passage to the attic. I remember having a sleepover with three girl friends in middle school, all of us splayed out on the rug underneath the dining table, talking into the late hours of the night. I remember my first boyfriend knocking on my bedroom window, unable to climb in because it had been painted shut. I remember sitting on the roof for hours, singing made-up love songs and writing stories in my journal under the moonlight.

3.

A two-bed, two-bath unit in a condo complex. All the doorknobs, cabinets, and light fixtures are straight out of a builder’s catalog — plain and old-fashioned, but ours. Big sliding glass doors look out over a woody hillside, where deer and squirrels like to pass by. Art adorns every wall, a growing museum of our world travels.

I remember taking couch cushions into the kitchen so I could sleep by Riley’s crate on his first night at home. I remember the excitement of putting our new bed frame together — only to find that we had left a crucial piece back at IKEA. I remember hosting a dinner party for nine of our friends, tables and chairs crammed into whatever space we could find, the air warming with the scent of pheasant and squash, our ears swelling with the sound of voices and laughter.

.

Over the years I’ve learned: home is just a word, until you fill it with memories.

filed PersonaltagsTags:
7 Comments
  1. yogadog says:
    Mon Jan 13 2014 at 11:06 PM

    Very well said. Between the ages of 17 and 30, I moved, on average, every six months. Home was the inside of my head and the back of my car. Now, I’m physically more stable. But I still live inside my head – a crowded and busy place with, I must confess, a lot of furniture.

  2. Shari says:
    Tue Jan 14 2014 at 8:09 AM

    I love this. You do such a beautiful job of describing these places that I can almost see those memories being made before my eyes. :)

    Also: a split-level library? How cool!!

  3. Kristan says:
    Tue Jan 14 2014 at 9:50 AM

    Julia-
    Oh wow, that’s a lot of moving! Well, based on what I know, inside your head seems like a fun place to be. :)

  4. Kristan says:
    Tue Jan 14 2014 at 9:51 AM

    Shari-
    Thanks for the kind words, and for writing the post that inspired this one! I too felt like I could see your grandmother’s home, and the bits of your life that you lived in it. :)

  5. Juliann says:
    Tue Jan 14 2014 at 5:06 PM

    I love this. I’m off to check out Shari’s post now.

  6. Jonathan says:
    Sat Jan 25 2014 at 12:57 PM

    This post has inspired me! I think one of my next posts will be this.

  7. Kristan says:
    Sat Jan 25 2014 at 8:47 PM

    Jon-
    Cool! I can’t wait to read it. :)

bio writinglinkscontact

subscribecontactcontact connecttwitterfacebookinstagramgoodreads

My Web Serial / Ebook


Beautiful and confident Sophie Lin, goody-goody aspiring writer Claudia Bradford, and boy-crazy scientist MJ Alexander are ready to tackle work, love, and life after college -- or so they think.

As their relationships go sour, their careers sputter, and a few too many ethical dilemmas arise, the girls turn to the one thing they can always count on: each other. But even that will be put to the test...

$1.99 at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, Kobo, Smashwords

My Husband’s Book


Welcome to New House 5. It’s not just the top floor of a brand new dorm. For 56 freshmen, it’s home. A place where friends are made and doors are always open. A place where hearts are broken and tears are shed.

Watch as these students try to overcome their flaws and fears to create a bond so special that nothing can pull them apart. Not even themselves.

Print: Amazon, B&N, IndieBound, CreateSpace

Digital: Amazon, B&N, iTunes, Kobo, Smashwords

Popular Posts

Categories

Features

Archives

Search