http://www.andrewandcarissa.com/andrewcarissa/2011/10/31/from-nikaela-marie.html

I live in an ordinary city, on an ordinary street.

Lucky for me, I married someone who holds the ordinary very dear; neighbourhood walks, butter on toast, hand-me-down furniture, the sound of the upstairs neighbours vacuuming.  I have learnt that the most sacred things are most often, the simply ordinary ones; undocumented habits, modest traditions.  The he way he does up his coat, the way she takes her coffee.  If we have these things, we have everything.

My city has a lot to aspire to.  It is, for half the year, bitter and dark and frozen. It is as far from the ocean as a city can be - in every direction.  There is only sky and land and more sky.  Oh, and wind.  There is wind.

But this is where I live.   And what I’ve found is that it’s as good as any place.  It is what we make it.  In fact, I’ve found that if people from my city share a common characteristic it is a persistent ingenuity. After all, if you can find beauty in day after day after day of sub zero temperatures, silent streets and shovelling snow, you can do anything.

Home, for me, is in keeping track of the ordinary things: knowing how he turns the page, when the porch light comes on, and how many months till spring.