But with a lot of elbow grease and help from my parents and sister, we've scrubbed out the layers of age and neglect. Some of the improvements have to wait until we come back from the adoption, but that's okay. Because I love our house. We've lived here for almost two years now and I love waking up here. Especially in the spring, summer, and fall. I love it when Brandon opens the bedroom curtains and our slider door to let in fresh morning air and sunshine. A dozen birds are singing in our trees and the leaves of the birch trees dance and play in our view. I love the green front door. I love the yellow walls in most of the house, and I love the light that comes in from the tall windows in almost every room. I love that our TV room is small and our family room is big. I love that I have a staircase with a wall to display family pictures as it winds up. I've never had that before. And though our kitchen is small, it's cheerful and cozy, and I do have plans for updating it someday, but it's a good size for me. It takes minutes to clean and I don't cringe thinking of the back pain I might have afterward. The house has a front "formal dining room" with a bay window. We don't need a formal dining room. But it works pretty well as a library and piano room. And maybe a little writing desk?
So the house has its quirks. But it came with gardens. Gardens I've only dreamed of. Gardens I missed in Wyoming's harsh climate. So while I love the character of our house, if I'm honest, the gardens are what sold it. The brick and ivy. The mature trees. The arbors. In the warm seasons, this is my writing room.
I feel so blessed to call this home.