I Woke Up and Realized I Am In Love With A House

Luckily, so is my husband, otherwise it could be awkward. We have another week or so before we close on this wonderful place, but we keep visiting it in between time, just to see it. Luckily the house is more or less empty, or this would be unacceptable behavior. As it is, we are thinking about what we want to do, what we should do first, what is possible and what we might dream of doing. Every time we think of the obvious barriers--the cost, the time investment, the skill set we have, the skill set we need to acquire, or borrow, or beg--we talk about how to solve it rather than why we shouldn't do it.

We are ready to lavish all our free time and disposable income on this house. We are sure it will disappoint us. We are sure there are things about it that we have yet to learn but will not like. We are parents, after all. We are raising four remarkable men, so we know the pitfalls as well as the joys, and while the house is not a living breathing thing, it does feel organic, part of the past but also part of the present, and we hope that it will also surprise us.

One thing about this new found love object. It means that I have regained my capacity to love objects. Which is not something to crow from the rooftops, I realize. But after my son's cancer treatment a decade ago, I was unable to appropriately care about objects. My car was broken into and I didn't really care--it is just a thing. Well, this is just a building--but somehow it has captured my imagination. I have noticed some of this returning, and while it is materialistic and that is not necessarily a plus, it is also human, which is.