Tag Archives: house-hunting

What I love about our house

10 Nov

My memory of seeing it for the first time; how it whispered “You found me – you’re home.”

The subsequent 20 years of memories of the boys growing up playing on it’s gleaming wooden floors, running up and down the stairs, hollering down the clothes chute; the Christmas morning the three of us took turns sliding down the stairs in their new snow saucers

All the Christmas mornings, rainy fall days, winter evenings cozy around the fireplace.

The love we’ve made in it, the fights we’ve had in it.

The solid core wood doors throughout that take muscle to open and close. I have practically broken a few hollow doors in cheaper homes by hauling them open with excessive force

Our neighbors, both sides, all up and down the block and behind us on the other side of the alley. We are close geographically (city blocks) AND totally look out for each other. We have seen each others’ kids grow up, parents die, husbands move out. We gather informally in each others’ homes the first Friday evening of every month for wine, appetizers and conversation. We catch each others’ escaped dogs, lend each other books, eggs, wrenches, shop vacs and marine/motorcycle expertise.

The screened in front porch with bead board ceiling which I “designed” by sketching it out on paper and got to see come to life by a talented construction team.

The perennial gardens I scratched out from the roots (literally, with a rented rototiller) and have watched grow and spread to maturity.

The cardinals that hang in the backyard all summer, drinking from our dolphin fountain. The wrens who return each spring to nest in the purple birdhouse Cole made in kindergarten which hangs on the southern corner of the front porch.

The view of the harvest moon out the study window in autumn.

The funny hum the upstairs toilet makes after each flush. Sometimes I harmonize with it.

The beautiful, 90 year old wood trim in the livingroom and diningroom which my ex and I took down, stripped and stained and put back up, fighting the entire time.

The “Rasta Room” in the finished attic that Vini and I made when we reunited after our separation.

The way the sun streams in the kitchen windows while we prepare supper in the evenings, practically blinding us and showing me when the windows need cleaning.

The tiki hut in the backyard where we grill, drink Lambrusco and hang out in the summertime, designed and built by Vini and a friend.

I could go on and on and on and on.