My House

my house and i have an interesting relationship. i know we were put here for a reason, and pete & i are certain what that reason is, but we don't love this house. why am i writing this post? i just feel like complaining a little about things that bother me too much sometimes, especially today. don't get me wrong, i'm grateful i have a house and pay so little for it, and i know it would be a mansion in comparison to the majority of the world. occassionally i just get too caught up in the things i hate instead of being grateful and making the best of what i have. today was one of those days. so here's my list....

i love...

*my purple walls, white chair-rail, and black front door.

*my black hutch

*my salon room

*the red couch

*sam's room; it's always so bright with all the natural light, and i love that his door is set in at an angle

*the bead-board in will's room

*our lovely flower beds that we enjoy all seasons but winter

i hate...

*our flat roof

(thank goodness the yard looks nothing like 

this anymore! the bushes are gone and been 

replaced with beautiful flower beds.)

*our pink oven and stove; no matter how much i scrub, it's still 53 years old and you can tell 

*our old windows that look horrible from the outside, collect bugs and cobwebs in between the panels on the inside, and let in a draft all winter

*all of our new white doors that we still haven't painted

*no pantry

*the 53 year old dust that seems to be permanently plastered in every corner

*how dark and undecorated our bedroom is; oh, and did i mention the closet doors?

*pete hates the 1 car garage and the sloped lot, so i guess i hate that, too

*the old rock mantle on our fireplace

*everything that is gross old, not restored vintage old

*the smell; i wish it smelled like tide laundry soap and downy fabric softner, but it doesn't

i mostly hate how it feels when other people are here. don't get me wrong, i LOVE when people come over, but i especially hate how much house feels dirtier when someone else is here. the floors, the fridge, the walls, the closets, the high chair (heck, all the chairs!), the baseboards, the blinds, the laundry piles, the light switch plates, everything just feels dirtier when someone new is here to see the mess we have grown accustomed to. i just wish my house felt cozier, more inviting, more comfortable. the kind of house where people come in, get cozy, kick their feet up, and never want to leave. that's my dream house, and i'm still trying with all my might to turn this house into that as long as we are here. 

oh, and it's all so much worse on the weekend for some reason....