This past weekend wasn’t glamorous or grand, but it was the kind that lingers. The kind that quietly reminds you how lucky you are to live in your own little corner of the world.
Our home isn’t “new” in the modern, pristine sense. Built in the ’60s, it carries the kind of character that only time can give; good bones, warm energy, and the subtle charm of history lived in. But like any meaningful relationship, a house becomes a home when you tend to it, love on it, and make it a reflection of your spirit.
That’s precisely what I set out to do this weekend.
Saturday began with a trip to one of my favorite places, Historic Smithville Village. If you’ve ever wandered its walkways, you know there’s a certain kind of magic in the air there. Amid the small shops and smiling faces, I found a beautiful birdhouse that felt like it belonged in our yard. I also couldn’t resist picking up another garden gnome (yes, I’m aware this might be turning into a mild obsession, but what can I say? They make me smile!).
After that, I popped into Dollar General for a quick browse and left genuinely impressed. Their outdoor decor section was surprisingly lovely, budget-friendly, and full of charm. I found a sweet little birdfeeder and, of course, added a few more gnomes to the collection. At this point, the gnome community in our yard is beginning to rival our local HOA.
Sunday was spent with soil on my hands and sun on my shoulders. Some of our plants were ready for roomier homes, so I repotted them and gave them a bit more breathing space. To fill the now-empty smaller pots, I headed to Bob’s Garden Center, which always has just what I didn’t know I needed. Among the new additions was a plant I can’t name (my apologies to my fellow plant lovers), but it reminds me of a miniature fairy tree; whimsical, delicate, and quietly magical. It’s already my favorite.
As the day came to a close, I took a step back and looked around:
The new birdhouse now hangs near the tree line.
Birdfeeders are gently swaying in the breeze.
New flowers are settling into their pots, while older ones are beginning to bloom with confidence.
And on our front porch, tucked into one of the hanging baskets, a bird nest has come to life. The eggs have hatched, and the tiniest, fuzziest little chicks now call it home.
It was one of those full-circle moments. As I stood in the yard, watering plants and brushing dirt off my knees, I felt it: the house had deepened its sense of home. Not because of new things, but because of intention, care, and love.
I’m grateful for these peaceful, grounding moments in between shifts and schedules. Grateful for the birds that visit, the plants that grow, the little gnomes that stand guard. And most of all, thankful for this beautiful life, rooted in a home that’s becoming more us with each passing weekend.
Sand Between Shifts 