Our House....

is a very, very, very fine house. I love that old Crosby,Still,Nash,and Young song...I have since I was a kid...

I had walked by her many times over the years. Wondered what she looked like inside...if she was being taken care of. Tucked in some corner of my mind, I knew that she would be ours someday.

Our journey with her began when I noticed the 'for sale' sign in front of her ten years ago on a frosty January afternoon. I'd been out for a walk with our son Joe, who was then three months old. I could scarcely breathe as I rushed home to call the realtor.

I'll never forget the feeling of walking up those saggy, creaky, front porch steps...nor the first time walking through that front door. The years had not been kind to her,to say the least....but the feelings of love...and warmth...and joy literally oozed from the walls. I fell in love, then and there. I'm sure some people thought I was suffering from some post-partum psychosis...including the realtor...and my husband, Jon. Jon did come around though...after I pointed out that yard was so big that he could build his dream garage.

And so literally ten years of blood, sweat, and tears began...and she's not quite done...but getting there. She has kept us safe, and warm. She has let us poke at her, tear her down, build her back up...add on to her. We have created in her...loved in her...laughed in her.

And this weekend she will turn eighty-nine years old....Happy Birthday 'Rosemary'.