house!

We bought our first house! It's scary and exciting and so, so wonderful to think that we now own our own house... along with about half an acre, and twenty or so trees (including a beautiful magnolia off to the left). I found a patch of strawberries growing on the side of the house, and there's a chipmunk who lives in the backyard and likes to come say hello. How fun to get to know this house, and make friends with it.

We'll do the big move on Saturday, and have been doing a load or two in the car over every evening after work with smaller things like kitchen stuff, clothes, and pictures. I've also been painting the master bedroom... or rather, will paint now that I've finally gotten a good coat of primer over everything. The previous color was a gray/lavender purply color with darker purple trim... and since there is a lot of trim everywhere - floorboards, crown molding, around the window, door, bathroom door, and closet door - it's taken 2-3 coats to generally cover up the darker color. When I finish the walls will be a pale, sunshiny yellow called "spun honey," with very white paint on the trim. It's a smaller room, and I think that will make it feel warm, and peaceful. And most important, it will make it feel like ours! Karl doesn't quite get why we (I) need to paint at all, since the old paint was "perfectly good," but I think it's important for me to make this mine. And it's been fun... and so nice to be there in the quiet house by myself, praying over our lives in that room and that house.

I am VERY thankful that the thyroid medication seems to be helping, since I have a ton more energy than I did a month ago... I don't know how we'd do this if I still felt that tired (painting would probably be out, anyway). I go back to the doctor in two weeks to see where my numbers are, and we'll go from there... we're homeowners!

compulsive behavior

Several months ago Karl was introduced to Craigslist.org, the gigantic online yard sale searchable by item or category or even words like "conversation piece" or "vintage." He immediately began checking for computer games, and we spent multiple evenings after work finding an address where he would trade $20 for a box or bag full of treasures. He thoroughly enjoys the whole process, from finding a good set of games and negotiating a price to exploring different neighborhoods to actually pulling out the games and playing with them. I teased him a lot about his Craigslist addiction... until, with this whole house thing, I got hooked too.

At least once I day I seem to find myself searching for sofas and armchairs, desks, tables, a guest room bed, dining room set, patio chairs, rugs... it's so fun to plan out the different ways I could arrange the new rooms, to think about our life there and the feeling it will have. I usually keep the tabs open for all the pieces I particularly like, leaving them in a row across the top of the screen so I can take them all in at one glance. I like to see what I could buy for $500, or $1,000 - budgeting whether this chair is worth the price, or if it would be better to get that cheaper one and pay more for a bedroom set. I think what's really so great about the whole thing is the sense of possibility, of creativity and treasures waiting to be found. It has been mostly imaginary so far (there is very little room for additional furniture in this apartment) but there is a new coffee table in our living room, and a rug and bench on the porch, and a plant in the dining room.

Karl watches all this and laughs, teasing me when he sees my neat row of finds sitting there on the laptop; but then we both look at each other and smile, understanding.

a marriage of heart and mind

Falling in love with a house is, I think, a lot like falling in love with a person - there's something there that immediately catches your attention, makes you come in for a closer look. Maybe the appearance, or the character, or just how open and friendly they seem... imperfections or flaws can be endearing, or a welcome challenge. As you get to know them a little better, it's really all the possibilities you see that pull you in. With Karl, it was the way I could imagine him spending time with my family, and interacting with people at a party, and playing with our kids, and working with me on a project... my imagined life with him just fit, and the reality has proved even better.

We're now in the negotiations phase of our house hunting process - a phase made slightly more difficult by the fact that I've fallen in love with this house (more info when - if! - we actually have a contract). Karl loves it too, but in a more rational, thought-out way; mine is an instinct-driven, impression-based, emotional, visceral, powerful love. At this point, not only is it hard for me to imagine us in any other house (certainly not any of the others we've seen), it's also painful for me to imagine anyone else in this one. And that doesn't exactly make for a hard-nosed negotiating position. Karl keeps whispering "poker face, poker face!" to me under his breath whenever we're interacting with our realtor, or having anything to do with the sellers, and I do try... not for nothing was I an actress! We've both been praying over this decision, and the house that we do eventually get, quite a bit - and I really do believe that God has His hand on this process for us. I also know, though, that He needs me to be willing to give up this house if it's not the one for us... and most of the time, I know I can.

My parents used to get very worried whenever I'd get my heart firmly and unshakeably set on something as inevitably there would be disappointment, and tears. One Christmas when I was about three, my answer to the "what do you want for Christmas?" question was invariably "A candy cane!" My parents, knowing already the force of my stubborn will, went out and found the biggest candy cane they could - it was a solid stick probably as big around as my little arm. I was absolutely delighted Christmas morning, until I got the wrapping off and took a lick - somehow I'd had an idea in my head of what a candy cane would taste like, and this was NOT it! I have gotten better with this, and do try to check myself, but my first tendency is always to let my emotions run away with me, to immediately start imagining whatever situation playing out perfectly, perhaps with a delightful surprise or two, and maybe a little underlying music swelling up at key moments, as if I lived in a movie (which happened to be another dream of mine. A musical, of course). Mom and Dad used to dread birthdays and Christmases, since the picture in my head would rarely be matched by the actual day. Karl's learned this lesson too, and his calm, collected rational logic goes a long way in balancing my soaring, hopeful dreams.

For now, I'm just hoping that this is OUR house, and that some of those dreams of mine can become reality there. If not, well... Karl may need to deal with the tears, that's all.

house-hunting

Karl and I are currently in the middle of the whole "house-hunting/becoming-home-owners/achieving-the-American-Dream" process. It's been alternatively exciting and discouraging, stressful and fun, and a new perspective on the many differences between the two of us and how we do things. Karl likes to have all the facts laid out first: price, exact location, miles to work, number of bedrooms/bathrooms, parking, etc. Then and ONLY then does he look at aesthetics, and he never, ever considers how the house "makes him feel." My technique tends to start with the feeling a place gives me, moving immediately on to mentally arranging all my furniture, painting walls and hanging pictures. Then I re-evaluate how my menally decorated house makes me feel, and imagine daily life there. Karl just shakes his head when he sees me doing this, and worries that my mental furniture arranging means I've fallen in love with a particular house and will be heartbroken if we don't end up buying it. In reality, though, it's just my way of measuring the livability of a place, and getting the most fun possible out of this process.

I've always loved open houses, home tours, visiting someone's house for the first time, or just looking in lighted windows at night to catch a glimpse of a room. I have stacks of pictures and ideas clipped from home decorating magazines starting from when I was ten or so, and somewhere a pile of graph paper with painstakingly drawn house plans (usually with at least five bedrooms, a "theater room," a library, and a guest house). Growing up, I'd rearrange the furniture in my room about every six months or so; usually starting, for some unknown reason, late at night. For me, all these possibilities are almost as exciting as the idea of actually finding our first home. I've been spending some time on craigslist seeing how much furniture I could buy for $500 or less, and trying out various arrangments in my head. There's a lot of no-nonsense practicality in it, too - from the lists of "must-haves" and "would likes" I wrote out for our realtor to my need to know that a house is livable.

We've been looking in DC itself (around the Capitol Hill area), and in a few little communities just outside the District. Karl grew up in the middle of the city in Philadelphia, so he's very comfortable with the row homes, tiny (or non-existent) yards, walking and urban feel. I've never really lived in a city, so there's a lot for me to wrap my brain around when we consider those options. Houses outside the city give Karl more to think about, especially the idea of lawn care and what that entails. We're not sure where we'll end up yet, but we're both really excited about all the possibilities... and the idea that we'll be in our own house in another two months or so. Owning a house - it feels like such a big, grown-up step to take! And it's just a short mental step from there for me to imagine babies, and family visiting, and parties with our friends, and a garden, and a dog... I think I see exactly why home-ownership has always been such a big part of the "American Dream."