I love to be outdoors, running, camping, canoeing- all that. I loved our different family vacations and missions. But when I'm home- I like to be home. I don't like jillions of little meetings that stretch a five minute informational into an hour. I'm getting to where I don't really care about eating out, ever. I'd rather have the time to make exactly what we want to eat here at home. I don't like the mall or the grocery store. I don't care about that new little shop everyone is talking about. If I had the money I'd order all of my Christmas gifts, except the ones we make, rather than look for things amid loud Christmas sales.
I think it's hereditary.
At any given moment, I can think of twenty things I'd love to do more than all that stuff: like read Mansfield Park or take a bunch of silly pictures of myself, or drink coffee with my sister after 5, knowing I'll be up most of the night, or play records for my patient children to say, "That's nice." about, or make something, etc.
I've gone through spells of living in a less than peaceful home and of being lonely in my life. But, when you're really grateful for a peaceful home, for quiet moments with your closest family, for people to love and be loved by, why not be a homebody?
See, I just elevated anti-social behavior to a state of serene, self-awareness and gratitude.
Works for me.
(365 Days 326,327,329- or something like that)