Well, here we are. I’m sitting on the couch catching up on American Idol (loving Angie Miller, btw) and wondering where in the world the last two weeks went. There was a snow day, and there was a 65-degree-bike-riding and sidewalk-chalk-drawing kind of day. Boxes are packed. The boys spent a few days with Omi and Grandbob in Michigan. Chris and I signed our names a million times and we now own a new house! We. own. a. new. house! It’s sinking in, slowly. We move in on Friday!
Hundreds of projects await us, and some we’ve already started, like this bathroom. No more shower doors. No more bulky brown cabinet on the wall. Hello new wall color soon (not the pictured one…too much like a princess dress!). I’m loving the colorful bathroom tile…we have this oatmeal color, mint green, and light blue. I’m loving our two brick fireplaces, the garage, and I’m especially loving the healthy strawberry and blackberry patches left to us. Oh, and Cole’s new bus driver, Joyce, stopped by today to meet us. On a Saturday! She’s a sweet older lady who told us that she passes through our street twice each morning because she knows that on some mornings, kids just aren’t ready on time. Ha! We already feel so welcomed in our new neighborhood.
The best part of this experience, though, happened at the closing of our new house on Wednesday. The previous owner is an 87 year old man who built his life and raised his family in this house. Well, 44 years of it anyway. Toward the end of the flurry of signatures, he handed over every single appliance manual, each one well kept and organized. Then, he handed us the house keys, leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands behind his head and smiled, and said, “I hope your family can be as successful in this house as mine was.” He gave us his blessing to live in and love his house, and after that the whole deal felt 100% right and complete.