I'm especially eager for starting new memories of holidays here. A home doesn't quite properly seem a home until there are memories in it of Thanksgiving turkeys, Christmas hymn sings, and New Year Eve parties.
I've heard tell that smell is one of the most evocative senses for nostalgia. I know that has been true for me with the smell of a wood fire. I get one whiff on a cold and gray day, and images float before my mind of the old kitchen at Grandma Bess' or Aunt Emma's - cornbread baking in the oven and coffee sitting on the stove, and somehow the warmth in the house (which was more than the fire in the wood stove, but that seems closely akin to it) had the promise beating back the encroaching chill. This house has a real fire-place and even though if you step outside it feels like you're IN a roaring fire, I am still eagerly anticipating the day I come home and there's a fire in the hearth with that wondrous smell that says "home" to my nose and memory like nothing else.