I love my house. Yes, there are things I would change about it, and plenty of changes have been made. But I love my house.
Over ten years ago, the place that we call home looked like this:
We started building on a piece of family land. One that drained well in a rainstorms and had access to a civilized water system. A little patch of land cut out of the middle of a cotton/grain field.
Ten years ago today, we moved our little family of then three in.
Changes? Plenty.
* Planted trees. Some lived and thrived, others died and were replaced.
* Payne's second birthday was the first birthday celebrated in our new home, a month after we moved.
* Grew a little grass around the yard.
* Brought Jackson home to this house
* Built a brick paver patio and sidewalk
* Built a shed
* Built a chicken pen for 4H
* Built a pig barn
* Closed in the garage/expanded boys' room and bathroom/built detached garage
* Will have a new sidewalk poured this week
* Added Sarge, Scout, Maddie, & Oso, plus a few cats (known around this house as coyote bait)
* Lost Sarge, Georgia, & Oso, plus all the coyote bait cats.
It's been 10 years of shelter, warmth, and love.
With the gushiness said first, it is still a house built in the middle of a field. Here's what I found this afternoon:
Yes, a snake. Dead and not completely whole, but still a snake. Why no one (Farmer Boy? Baby J?) told me they ran over a snake while mowing the yard is ridiculous. I do not wear shoes outside. I could have stepped on it, or it's entrails at the very least.
Got to love living in the country. :)