Week 8: Home is where the heart is...

For me, home is right here in Illinois. The first few years of my life were spent in a little brick house out in the country that my great aunt and uncle built. I may have been little, but it's the place I love the most. A lot of happy memories are stored there, and some good times I will never forget. In fact, that is where I'm writing this post from. Almost everything here is exactly the way it was ten years ago. Even the outside is almost the same; the forest, the lake, the old gravel road. It's a serene, rustic beauty untouched by time. It's a place where I can escape my troubles and my soul can feel at home. And I hope it will stay that way for a long time to come.