Homely House

Two weeks ago, Donnie and I became the owners of this pretty property. Here are some photos--before we paint the walls and disturb its serenity by actually moving in:

Living Room

Downstairs bathroom

View from kitchen into dining area

dining area

Loulou, okay, despite run in with electrical socket.  Ritual fast food.

Master bedroom

Girl's room

Upstairs bathroom

"sewing" or baby room

I've come to think of it, affectionately, as "Homely House," after Rivendell in the Lord of the Rings.   Rivendell is the "Last Homely House of the Western Wood".   I dare not call our homely house the last homely house, lest I insult our neighbors, but it is homely, in the best sense of the word--cozy and comfortable, and just right for us.

We're excited that it's a mere twelve minute walk to Donnie's office.  It also shares the University's water and sewer system--no septic tank!   It has three bed rooms, a den and a tiny sewing room that we plan to use for the baby.  It fits our family beautifully, with a little room to grow.  The house is in very good shape, but there are a few things to do before we move in---some electrical work, and some painting.  (My hat goes off to all you diy-ers.  just choosing the right white for the living room walls has proven to be a drawn-out, multi-step process. )

Though we are very happy with the house, our tenure as homeowners had a rocky start.  Loulou stuck a paper clip into an electric socket at the lawyers office during the closing, resulting in two burned fingers (fortunately not serious).  We went to visit the house after the closing, and in the rush to get Maria onto the potty, I broke the key in the deadbolt.  Maria ended up marking the territory in the front yard--sort of fitting, don't you think?

This marking of territory was followed by a ritual survey of the domain.  We wandered from room to room, coming to grip with the fact of ownership.   "Look, I never noticed that old, cloudy mirror.  Well, I guess it's now our cloudy mirror. The wood grain on that door looks like a gargoyle face.  Now it's our door, our gargoyle face.  That cracked switch plate is ours to replace.  The stuck door is ours to fix." 

I found my mind rushing to establish whether these things were friend or foe--will the mirror need to be removed?  Will the gargoyle become a source of irritation or a friendly sentinel?  Ah, these new decisions.   The switch place must be replaced, the door fixed.  The house is owned, but not yet won.  We will wage a campaign of Spackle and paint, and send box after box of our possessions to settle the territory.

Hopefully the result of the conquest will be a house like Rivendell:

"That house was, as Bilbo had long ago reported, 'a perfect house, whether you like food or sleep, or story-telling or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all'. Merely to be there was a cure for weariness, fear, and sadness."

Here's to our very own Homely House!