Our azaleas were showstoppers this spring.
One year ago my husband and I moved into our current home. A whole year later, I am flooded with gratitude as I reflect on the past year of living here.
I am obsessed with old houses, character, charm, quirks, etc. And our (old) house has lots of that, but what I’ve realized is that my gaze has shifted from the house itself to the life we’ve lived in it. There are so many moments I want to bottle up and remember forever, and they have less to do with the stuff and more to do with the people. That may sound obvious, but I am someone who LOVES to create a place (think- decor, pillows, candles, music, etc.) and it’s taken adding our baby girl to the mix for me to see how much less those things matter than I thought they did.
View from living room into dining room.
Back deck.
A safe, cozy, inviting home is still important to me. But some of my favorite meals of the past year have been eaten on paper plates at our ottoman in the living room or on our patio table we found at a yard sale. The shelves in the laundry room are not as tidy as they were when I was intensely nesting, and I’m ok with that. I’m learning that I can be settled and enjoy a place (our home) even when things are unsettled (think- unmade beds, chaotic refrigerator shelves, leaves on the floor in the entryway, piles of baby clothes to name a few). We all have heard that perfection isn’t the goal, and I’m just here as an honest control freak to say it again. Let’s enjoy our homes, the people in them, the neighbors on our street, and the smell of your favorite fall candle.
View from back of the house.
A year into living in this home, I’m more convinced than ever that we have the best neighbors in the world. In a culture of individualism and society filled with so much division, there is nothing sweeter than a kind neighbor. I wish everyone could have even just one neighbor like the ones we’ve gotten to know over the past year. They’ve checked our mail, cut our grass, brought us food, dropped fresh flowers at the door, shared yard tools, passed down baby clothes, taught us how to trim rhododendron bushes, made us cocktails, invited us onto their porches, laughed with us, held our baby, and so much more. The gift of good neighbors is one we did not anticipate and it’s been the sweetest surprise. Knowing you have people around you who care, is no small thing.
If our walls could talk… they’d tell stories like these:
There were a lot of poopy diapers, but even more baby giggles.
Learning about the parts of our HVAC unit on chilly days with our favorite handyman.
Eating takeout on the living room floor because hand washing dishes is not for the faint of heart.
Hosting our first Easter and Mother’s Day on my husbands great-grandmother’s table.
Smoking lots and lots of meat and brewing too many pots of coffee.
Taking daily walks and learning the names of neighbors and their dogs.
Watching Premier league soccer on Saturday mornings.
Cleaning up baby food off the floor below the highchair.
Gathering friends to watch Wimbledon and eat breakfast casserole.
Pulling weeds and borrowing the neighbors lawnmower.
Having a glass of wine on the porch after the baby goes to bed.
Pots of soup and chili made in an outdated kitchen.
Folding laundry on the living room floor while baby girl does tummy time.
Making and remaking the guest bed for lots of family visits.
Inviting friends over to help us choose where to hang art on our walls.
This is the good stuff. It’s not perfect and not always easy. But I am so grateful for the beauty and meaning and abundant life we’ve experienced in this home over the past year. Now the same leaves we watched grow in the Spring, are falling to the ground and so it goes. Thanks for coming along for my reflective journey. Cheers to many more meaningful days in the places we call home!
