Well guys, it’s that time of year again.

Fair time.

For some of you, the state fairs in your respective states come and go with no chance in your daily life. Not me.

As the daughter of a beef cattle farmer, I’ve spent about 2 weeks every August working in a steakhouse at our state fair that’s run by the Missouri Cattlemen Association for almost as long as I can remember. We serve more than 1000 steaks a day, not including burgers, BBQ brisket, and all-beef hot dogs. It’s a frenzy of feeding hungry, tired and hot people for 12 hours a day in the heat of the summer. Luckily, we’re in an air-conditioned restaurant instead of one of those little stands that sell corn dogs and funnel cakes.

Still, it’s a crazy time that I’ve come to enjoy in a unique sort of way, and after I got married and moved to Kansas City, I thought my days at the fair were pretty much over. Of course, last year at this time I was pretty much unemployed so I came to work to earn some extra money. And now I’m self-employed. So I “took some time off” to come stay at my parents’ house for the next couple of weeks.

It’s a like a vacation.

A vacation where I work 12 hours a day standing on concrete next to a giant grill.

How relaxing.

But the money will be a good addition to our savings account after it took such a hit with the down payment for our house.

And it’s good to be home…away from home.

Last night was the second night at my parents’ house without my husband, and while I miss him (miss him a lot!), I have to admit how nice it is to spend time with my parents.

Moving away, even though we’re only an hour and a half or so apart now at our new house, was hard for me, as I’ve always been a family girl.

I went to a college about an hour away from home but came home most weekends because I wanted to see Wyatt and I was still involved with so much in my hometown. Seeing my parents was something I grew very used to, even after I “moved out,” per say, and I even took it for granted I think.

Then I got married, (which is great!) and moved away, for real this time. Which was awesome and hard all at the same time. Harder than I thought it would be. And more amazing to live with my husband and best friend.

Kansas City became our home.

But then again, this house that I grew up in will always be home, too.

It’s my home away from home, I guess you could say.

I love that the rooms are all so familiar and even the furniture holds memories. Last night as I sat on an old couch my mom wants to get rid of, I was reminded of the night I cried, sitting there with Wyatt, because it was the night after we’d gotten engaged and it all finally hit me. (I didn’t cry at all the night he actually asked me. I think I was in too much shock…and just so happy!)

I love that my mom stocks her shelves with all the foods I used to love when I was living here. It’s a treat to have all those loved snacks that Hubs and I don’t buy for ourselves on an everyday basis.

And I’ve enjoyed building a project with my dad, going through old boxes of stuff for a future garage sale with my mom, and just talking with them about more than just, “this is what’s new with us.”

Don’t get me wrong, I love our house in the city, er, the suburbs now, but I also love it here. And yes, I am counting down the hours until I’ll see Hubs again, but I’m also thankful for every minute here.

What about you? What do you love about coming home? How do you cope with being away from those you love? What are your favorite memories of the houses you grew up in.

And