I love our house. I've been browsing blogs tonight - I love this task and so rarely have the time anymore - anyway, as I said, I've been blog hopping and I've realized, as I saw all of the gorgeous photos of homes and such, I love my house.
(I'll post photos sometime soonish - maybe.)
Our house was built in 1902. It is rumored to have been a rectory for the Catholic church some blocks away, and was thought to have been moved in the early '20s to this spot. It feels like my grandparents homes. Both sets of grandparents' homes. Little snippets here and there. It smells like family. It smells like dust and chicken dinners and coffee for friends and children and crayons and pledge and pets and work and music...
This house has only ever seen girls raised here. The last family had 4 girls. That was when Willy and Roxie owned the home. They bought it in 1960 and sold it in 2005, to us.
It needs work, but it's ours. And we are so lucky.
I'll share more later, but I didn't want to forget to be thankful for something so important. It shelters us and keeps us warm and together and feels like home and family. Lots of family and shared, happy memories.