Well, we're finally moved in...kind of. I say "kind of" because I still have quite a few boxes still in the garage and I haven't unpacked anything for three weeks. I'm pretty burnt out right now. It's a slow process of trying to make your house a home. I keep trying to remind myself that it took me five years to get the last house the way I wanted it. Here are a few pictures.
My entryway...I love the wallpaper. Some hate it...I love it.
My porch swing. This is my new favorite place, especially early in the morning.
Our backyard with big shade trees.
Our den...I finally buckled and let Jon get recliners after I said I never would....they're our "ma and pa" chairs.
Our dining room. I plan on have Sunday dinners in here every week.
My formal living room. I get to have girly, pretty, totally impractical furniture in there because no children are allowed!
I love this house. It's a fixer-upper. There are lots of changes that need to be made, but that will take some time. It's a house that I can see myself living in for many years and making lots of happy memories. It was a bittersweet move. As we closed the garage door for the last time on our old house, Jon cried. This of course made me cry. It was our first home as a newleywed couple. We brought our babies home there. Jackson learned to crawl for the first time down that hall. Cole banged his milkcup on the rock fireplace and it still bears the calcifications. Sampson dug a hole in the carpet down to the cement floor...yeah...that was a bad day.
We put every nail in those walls, every stain on the carpet, every flower in the yard. Jon built the shutters with his own two hands. That house has seen lots of tears and lots of joys. It served as a place that always felt safe to me. It was a shelter against many thunderstorms, tornadoes and blizzards. It blocked me from the world as I cried alone and felt overwhelmed. The mantle held our stockings: first mine, Jon's, and Sampson's...then Jack's and Cole's. In the garage, the wall shows the markings of the boys height year after year. To quote one my all-time favorite movie, 'Father of the Bride', "it was warm in the winter and cool in the summer. It was a great house". But, as I became really sad, I got to thinking...that's just what it is...a 'house'. In the movie, Steve Martin goes on to say, "What I love most about this place were the faces I saw when I walked through the door."
Those faces are in the new house with new memories waiting to be made. I'm excited for what the future holds here. I also know that the old house will always be a place I drive past every now and then and say, "Remember when?"