Home is that special place where you can be you.
And maybe, just maybe, that you are a wild woman who cranks Fleetwood Mac up to 10 and just lets it all go, in the middle of her kitchen.
On some random weekday morning.
Just because she can.
Just because it feels right.
Because if you can’t dance like a whirling dervish in your own kitchen, can you really call it home?