I am very much in love with my sweet little house. I still remember pulling the for sale sign out of the yard when I first moved in. After many failed attempts at becoming a homeowner, I bought this house all by myself. (I like to refer to her as Lucky # 4!) I danced around this place when the walls and rooms were totally bare, right after I closed on it. I imagined it being pretty, and warm and welcoming - being a home. And now it is a home. My home. I painted my bedroom 3 times, with help from Kelly (and Lily!), until I found the perfect shade of blue for the walls. (I do not have any warm, fuzzy memories of paint color #2 that I like to refer to as Barbie's Aqua Dreamland. It was bad. Very, very bad.) Then there was the labor day weekend that produced two beautifully tiled bathroom floors after 3 rainy days with no working showers or toilets. Obviously Shawn was the boss of that project, but Kelly and I laid each and every tile in both of my bathrooms. I still hesitate before walking on the floors, they're so pretty! And my beautiful new wall that closed in the overlook and made a real third bedroom. I hammered and nailed and spackled and taped and sanded and painted (while Shawn and Dad did the hard stuff!), and built a wall. And it's gorgeous. See?
I've learned that no matter what the project, about halfway through I will start to hate it and desperately want to quit. But I always feel dorkily proud of myself when it's finished.
In addition to all the additions, I have memories here now too. Sleepovers with Schmeeg, Smithers and Tooney, cooking dinners (there were at least 2 so I'm allowed to use the plural!), playing with Lily and Rory, and snuggling on my couch with Lucy that one time in snowed in Charlotte. All those little things that now feel like really big things.
It's my cozy little house that I've made mine. I can't (don't want to?) imagine anyone else living here.
Monday, May 17, 2010
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