So here I am participating in Mrs Fussypants’ Life Doesn’t Suck Thursdays. Here’s all I can think of.
For several years we were renters, moving every 1-2 years. I always just wanted our own home. We moved a lot when I was a kid and I didn’t want that for mine. So we bought our house about 3 years ago.
It was a dump and we’ve finished the basement and remodeled the upstairs mostly. I love looking out my windows. I love the colors on my walls and floors. I love that the nighbors are hard of hearing so my kids can be noisy. I love the kitchen window. I love my porch. I love the play-roof over the carport. I love the treehouse. I love the library. I love the dining room and the view.
I love the floor we tiled when I was pregnant. I crawled around to lay the tiles and to grout it and now I love watching my baby crawl on it. I love the little stream along the side of the yard. I love the walnut tree. I love that there are so many planters and flowerbeds. I love the roses.
I hate the roses, but I love them, too. I love them because the neighbor has told me stories about when they were planted. Some of them have nametags.
I love the clothesline by the fence. When my dryer was broken and I had to hang laundry, I felt a connection to the original owner. She would be in her 90’s now. I bet she sat her baby in the basket, too; hanging diapers to dry. I’ll bet they talked over the fence. Her kids climbed the same trees my kids climb.
Her kids are grandparents now. One of them came to pick roses a few weeks ago. She’s taking them to her Dad’s grave. The tea roses by the curb were planted the day she was born each petal is shaped like a heart. It takes a lot of love to make me not hate roses.
Nothing this summer has happened like I thought it would. Our Real Estate Agent sucked and only showed the house once. It’s all so surreal. I hold firm that something better might be in store. Isn’t it usually.
That’s enough for today.
Lotsa crazy crud going down at the Hannigan house. Don’t miss another post,
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