Books, open books, half read books, books about other homes, evoke home to me. Sharron McMillan , Sechelt, BC, Canada My bed. It looks like hell, it might as well be a hammock for all the support it gives, and the metal boxsprings sound like a car wreck, but there you have it. An old stone carving found in the garden. It is very crudely carved, just a figure of a man.
Archaeologists think it was a guardian of the house carved locally in the sixteenth century.
He guards us now, and I dust him every day. The sofa in the living room at my parents place. Its seen the tears of adolecence, the loneliness of a broken heart, the happiness of a passed exam, the dissapointment of a failed one, the exitement of a new relationship and tiredness after a hard days work. I've always felt comfotable in that big green sofa. You know, I don't know what this means.