I love my house. I love it so much that one year I included it in our holiday card as though it was one of the kids.
You see, I was born and raised in NYC. This is the first house I've ever lived in. When we moved, I looked at exactly one house in one town, and I looked at it exactly once before I put in a bid. This did not, as you might imagine, lead to matrimonial harmony, especially since Ted wasn't with me when I saw the house. So that was interesting.
But I had always wanted to have an old stone house, and the second I walked in the door I knew that this was where I was supposed to live and raise my kids. So I told Ted that this was his one chance to recreate his beloved suburban existence, and thankfully, Ted loved the house too. So we moved to the country.
Anyway, here's basically what it looked like our first winter:
I think if you've read any of this blog you are aware that there are several changes I'd like to make on the inside. But until recently, I hadn't really thought much about the outside. I mean, I painted the door green:
By myself. In case that's not clear from the photo. And I put those fir trees out for the holiday:
And I loved looking in the window and seeing the Christmas tree:
And it looks so pretty in the winter light:
There are, of course, things I'd like to change. I want to add a picket fence, change the white louvered shutters for dark green paneled ones that match the door, repaint the front step from grey:
to white (I mean why is it grey? WHY? Ignore the crappy green paint job on the door), and add an arbor over the path that leads by the porch to the back yard:
You know, just a few little things. Ted's totally on board (not). Are kids still saying "not"? I'm sure they are. Anyway, all those changes are ahead of us (pretty far ahead, if you talk to Ted) and in the meantime, it's not so bad coming home to this:
After all those apartments, I feel like I live in a fairy tale.