There were many things I wanted to say today, but as I sat down, sunburned and more tired than I’ve been in memory, I realized there was only one thing I could truly talk about.
The last month has been a whirlwind for me and mine. After five years of apartment life, we finally were able to settle down in a place where we could call our own.
It’s certainly what you’d call “modest,” if you were being polite. Everything needs at least a little TLC. The yard is mostly comprised of gardens that have been neglected for at least three years, according to the neighbors. I don’t understand whose bright idea it was to carpet the bathrooms (of which, for the first time, we have two). None of the light switches make a lick of sense.
And everything is perfect—in all its maddening, bizarre, and unexpected imperfections.
Because it’s ours. And now, it’s home.