Resolved: To Be Happy With My Home

My house was built in 1969.

It's not even close to new. It's also not so old that it has really cool details and workmanship.

It is in no way large, though not tiny either and, in reality, aside from doing laundry down there, we hardly even use the bottom half of our split-level ranch in the winter.

There is wallpaper in here. Lots of wallpaper. Lots of wallpaper circa 1970. Some, we've been able to strip.

Some seems to be permanently affixed to the wall with a substance whose holding power defies all solvents we've been able to get our hands on. (Any suggestions??)

My house sits on about an acre and the view is stunning.

My neighborhood is quiet and friendly and the speed limit is 20 mph... and almost everyone obeys that.

That's the story about my house.

Is it perfect? Not even close. Is it impressive? I don't really think so. It's definitely not impressive compared to the 4,000 square foot near-mansions just down the road from us. Is it my dream house? Nope. (My dream house wouldn't be massive or fancy... but it would have a big old front porch and eastern exposure for the master bedroom. I adore early morning sunlight on my face.)

But it is my home. And the out-dated things about it that make me roll my eyes? They're there because, before it was ours, it was someone else's home. An old man, made a widower when his children were still young, who raised one boy and two girls in this house. Those children are now grown and they are older than me. The old man passed away in the Spring of '09 and the children, who had moved on, had to sell the home.

They chose to sell it to us.

To a young family setting out to raise one boy and two girls in a loving home.

And so, when I feel myself start to cringe when guests come into our home and see dark panelling and flowered wallpaper in my kitchen, I just take a deep breath.

I am raising generations here, just like those who trod here before me.

I am filling these walls with more smiles and laughter to ring out with that which echos through the narrow corridors.

I am finding joy in a place that has known joy before.

My house is nothing special.

My home is a thing of beauty.

How about you? Are you happy with your home? Are you able to see beyond the bricks and mortar? I'm learning.