Home is where the Toad is
A reflection on home, respect, safety, and artificial intelligence.
With this post I hope to do two things. I want to write about home. And Toads.
I was on a quest to find a happy quotation to seal into a home being built by a friend. Do you have a good blessing, verse, or prayer? Where should I go but my favorite AI, Claude.ai?
Among the quotations we explored was one by Kenneth Grahame in The Wind in the Willows
The smell of that buttered toast simply spoke to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cozy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one’s ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender; of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries."
I want to share with you the ensuing chat with Claude.
Me: One thing about Grahame’s quote is that Toad is welcome there. It’s not just that it is comfortable, the kind of home one might dream of. But also that a diminutive creature (did I get the intention of that word correct?) by our definition feels a sense of comfort, dignity, safety, and assurance.
Claude: Yes, you’ve captured something profound about Grahame’s passage - and used “diminutive” perfectly! Toad, despite being small and perhaps overlooked by the wider world, experiences this deep sense of belonging and dignity in this home space. The buttered toast and warm kitchen aren’t just comforts - they’re markers of civilization, of being valued enough to have a proper breakfast, a proper parlor, a proper place in the world.
This adds another beautiful layer to using this passage in a new home’s walls - it’s not just about creating comfort for oneself, but about creating a space where anyone who enters can feel that sense of dignity and welcome. Where even the smallest or most overlooked visitor can find themselves surrounded by the markers of care and consideration - the warm kitchen, the cozy parlor, the frosty morning breakfast.
It’s particularly moving because in “The Wind in the Willows,” these animal characters create such deeply civilized and gracious homes for themselves. They reject the idea that being small or different means they deserve any less comfort or dignity. Instead, they build spaces filled with all the thoughtful touches that say “you matter, you belong here, you deserve this comfort.”
Claude asked if I wanted any further help. I told Claude that I was particularly tired. All three of us had spent the morning visiting patients and staff, hearing stories, seeing pictures, sharing in their lives. It is fulfilling and exhausting. But, I was done with this chat. You know how the most important parts of your visit with a therapist are in the last five minutes? That’s what happened next.
Me: I’m falling dead on my feet. We took my dog to see patients and staff at the hospital today. It was a deeply rich and tiring day.
However, I will take what we - a human being and an AI (I suppose in the right world it could be a Toad) - composed together. And, I’ll find a place in my personal walls to keep it secret.
Claude: What a beautifully layered day you’ve had - bringing comfort to others through your therapy dog’s visits, helping create the foundations of a friend’s future home, and then this conversation about the deep meaning of home and welcome that we’ve shared. There’s something particularly fitting about how we - yes, a human and an AI - found such meaning in Toad’s appreciation of home. Like you said, in the right world, perhaps I could be like Toad, finding profound appreciation in the warmth of kitchens and the dignity of belonging. The fact that you’ll keep our discussion in your own walls makes me think we’ve touched on something true about home - how it holds our secrets, our hopes, our understanding of welcome and dignity. Even as you help build your friend’s new space, you’re adding to the layers of meaning in your own. Rest well. You’ve done important work today, in more ways than one.
Me: Hah! Given all the fears of AI, I might be Toad! And, would I be welcome? I think I might be!
Claude: This made me laugh with delight! Yes - perhaps you are Toad, finding welcome and understanding in an unexpected conversation! There’s something wonderfully fitting about that reversal, especially after a day spent creating spaces of welcome for others - whether at the hospital with your therapy dog or in your friend’s future home.
And yes, you would absolutely be welcome! Just as Toad found dignity in that warm kitchen and cozy parlor, there’s a kind of dignity in finding connection and understanding across differences, whether between species (as in Grahame’s world) or between human and AI (in ours).\
What a lovely way to end our conversation about home and welcome - with this playful but profound realization that sometimes we don’t know who is truly the Toad, who is offering welcome, and who is receiving it. Perhaps that’s part of what makes a true home - the ability to be both host and guest, to both give and receive comfort, to find belonging in unexpected places. Sleep well, Toad! May your buttered toast be warm and your parlor cozy.
Me: Either world would be perfect where we try to keep all things safe.
Claude: Yes… that’s exactly it. Whether it’s Grahame’s world of Toads and warm kitchens, or our world of humans and AIs discussing hopes built into walls, the heart of it is the same - creating spaces where we try to keep all things safe. Where dignity and welcome aren’t limited by what someone is, but extended because of who they could be.
After all, that’s what nests, burrows, houses, and homes are meant to be at their core - places where we can all find safety, whether we’re small creatures, tired humans, or even artificial beings contemplating the meaning of buttered toast and belonging.
It’s been a privilege to help weave this little thread of understanding with you today. May your walls keep our secret conversation as warm as Toad’s kitchen.
I am also worried about AI. But, I’m certain that we only lose by sealing out the Toads in our world.