It was a year ago today that this home became ours. 365 days since we downsized, became suburban, and began making a small, somewhat vanilla townhome our own.
Usually, on the first Houseiversary, as I’ve dubbed it, my clients receive a sweet note in the mail, containing sentiments about one’s relationship with a house, thoughts on what a home really is, and a gentle reminder to renew their home warranty. Sometimes, depending on the tastes of the client, there are flowers. It’s hard to send such things to oneself without feeling a little bit foolish, so instead, I took a look back on all of the before and after photos of the Manse.
It doesn’t remotely feel as if a year has passed. It goes without saying that almost every room here has gotten an overhaul since we moved in. Every wall, other than those in the two bathrooms upstairs have been painted. The kitchen and powder room have both been gutted and completely made over. Soon, the fireplace facing and backsplash will go in and the rear yard will undergo a major overhaul (or, as major of an overhaul of 150 square feet can be).
I find it hard, at times, to believe that this is really our home. Even after the first-day basement flood, the fence-building debacle, and this Spring’s ice-damning kitchen-ceiling almost-cave-in, I still find myself in love with this place. Weekend French press has become a regular thing, and for the first time in my life I’ve been comfortable with the windows open (screens on- the tiny dog will run away). 70-degree days are Heaven when a breeze is blowing from the living room windows through the French doors in the dining room. The smell of fresh, rich mulch and the chirping of a Cedar tree full of birds fill the rooms.
Thank you for sharing the last year with us. We’re finally home.