Meanwhile I enjoyed waving fields of corn, long walks down the driveway and views out every single brand new Anderson window. The carpet was also brand new, as well as everything else in that house, save the charming old woodwork.
The winter was another story, but I was cozy and warm, and I loved seeing the wind drift and dapple the snow in waves. The country was second best, coming from a childhood of growing up on a lake.
Yes, I was spiritual all right, "suffering" in my rental home and learning through the lack of a mortgage tying us down, that "this world is not my home."
Then we moved to town and I found out I had not really learned that lesson in contentment.
This house has acoustical ceiling tile in the bathroom, painted over wallpaper paste, and dark low pile Berber in two bedrooms. Oh yes, and peeling kitchen cabinets with brass hardware. Did I tell you Mitchell shares a room with my office? He's glad to have the computer so close, but the poor kid (ahem, teen) has no privacy as his room opens directly to the living room, and kitchen.
It's cozy and the utilities are cheap, the kitchen is massive and the garage is so heavily insulted it stayed a balmy 20* inside even when the temperatures dropped to a wind chill of -40*, but it has definite quirks.
And they irk me.
We have goals that we are making progress toward, but I'm ready to be in a house with quirks that I can do something about!
Yesterday my issue of Martha Stewart Living came and was a bit astonished to see this page spread on brass.
My kitchen with brass hardware (and cute little girl in tutu.)
I know it's not the same, and I can't paint my cabinets grey or replace my woodgrain laminate with white silestone, but my hardware is on trend!
We are where we need to be, and if I can't be content with all the little annoyances of a house-not-my-own, at least I can be content with that.
And with my brass kitchen hardware.