I love love LOVE our new house. It's just fantastic. I love everything about it. The porch is my absolute favorite. I love the kitchen, I love the backyard, I love the neighborhood... Ask anyone and you'll come to know that I have an abnormally large amount of affection for our appliances, most specifically our washer, dryer, and fridge. (The other appliances are jealous, but it's true, I love them less.) I even love that our house has a tin roof which I imagine will be very hot in the summertime, which makes me think about Tennessee Williams (assuming there was some kind of cat on it).
Given my devotion to our house it's surprising that I've already inflicted wounds onto it's fragile being. During a spree of window opening this weekend, I managed to open a window with such zeal and enthusiasm as to crack off one of the window latches by slamming it into the blinds. Now my beautiful house has a blemish. I've managed to break part of it, and we've only lived in it for two months now. I suppose that's how it goes, this is me we're talking about.
Fortunately, this window is still secured by the other latch, and I've been assured by my adorable husband that it is fully fixable. I'll have to have less energy when opening things from now on. My mom always told me not to slam doors. I had to wait until now, but I finally understand why.
1 comment:
Love the house ... and don't worry, houses are made to be blemished. That's what makes them lived in.
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