Wednesday, October 1, 2008
“There is no instinct like that of the heart.”
My self-declared surrogate grandmother once asked a friend to accompany her on a house-hunting expedition. My friend and her husband had retired, and were searching for the perfect nook in which to find placidity.
When they stepped into the very house that, as it later transpired, my friend would eventually come to own- an elegant and charming Victorian house flanked by California's trusting, lofty trees- her companion gasped her thoughts aloud.
"Oh. This house just hugs you!"
I can testify to that declaration. I have been in the house in question: it is an abode with a heart, a place which most assuredly extends a mighty, welcoming embrace to all who visit. I have spent treasured hours in the company of my friend, who I believe knows a thing or two about heeding instincts and about the immeasurable and inexplicable worth of a first impression.
Posted by Phyllis Hunt McGowan at 12:04 PM