Sometimes Mark and I get a little depressed with our home. We've been here 11 years now, in our starter home in which we were going to live 5-8 years. We looked at moving a few years ago, trying to cut down Mark's commute downtown, but it was ridiculously expensive, 100K more to live in pretty much the same home, with fewer updates, 15 minutes further west. Instead, we reno'd the basement to make our home warmer and more enjoyable. I have plans to eventually tackle the main bathroom and kitchen.
It's hard not to compare ourselves to friends and the homes they've "moved up" to. There are some that are over 2000 square feet, 3000 square feet, even 5000 square feet. Some of my friends live in brand new houses, with vaulted ceilings and gorgeous stainless steel appliances, and huge fireplaces. One has great decorating taste, another this amazing vegetable garden, and a third a huge space for entertaining. Another lives minutes from the beach, or has a great view of the ocean (at least in the winter time when the trees are bare). And yet, we're still here, in the 40ish year old, split entry suburban home, with too many trees that make such a mess to clean up in the spring after all the winter wind storms. My kitchen is really not ideal for more than 1 cook at a time, my bathtub is so old, I can not scrub it to a gleam.
Today, though, was a great day for perspective... I started off with coffee at Anne's - in her smaller home, that is simply lovely. Early this afternoon, I popped over to Catherine's house to pick up bedding plants and hanging baskets for the school fundraiser. Catherine has the same style home as me - with another amazing huge yard, complete with a white picket fence around her daughter's playhouse, declaring "Cassidy's place". No new homes in our city have large, unique yards like our neighbourhood. "Farmer Catherine" had her riding mower towing a wagon to load up my van with 8 flats of bedding plants and 6 hanging baskets.
From there I went to Marianne's - my dear friend fighting breast cancer, to drop off her hanging baskets. I arrived to see her, only 2 days after her latest chemo session, sitting at her kitchen table surrounded by a sister, sister-in-law and friend from church. I was invited to sit at the table, covered in an orange tablecloth and adorned with a few small plants, to join "the party". I loved it! We laughed, shared a few stories and I left with a smile. As I sat in her 40ish year old kitchen, with no stainless steel in sight, I could not help but smile at the "imperfect", yet really lovely space under the skylight.
Later, the kids and I, with a buddy of Josh's in tow, went to Sylvia's to drop off a meal. She gave birth to her 3rd child last week, and we wanted to bring the family supper, and peek at a beautiful new life. The kids played for 1/2 an hour in the backyard with Sylvia's husband and 2 older kids, while she and I sat and chatted about babies and books and eight year olds.
None of these afternoon visits was more than 2 blocks from my home. At supper I recounted to Mark my day and how I feel really connected to our community. Then after dinner, Cheryl and her boys arrived for pajama movie night, and the kids, and even the dog, had a great time watching "Sky High", eating popcorn and popcorn twists with great friends.
When I think back to my dream for a family home, this is it. I loved, when I lived in Ottawa, noticing how the women who had raised their kids together just walked in Freda Mason's back door. I want this: people just popping over to drop off extra vegetables from their garden, or the kid up the street knocking on our door to see if my kids want to play. I like when neighbours stop for a few minutes to chat as I work in the garden.
No magazine is going to profile my current kitchen (European style laminate with oak trim cupboards, white appliances, dishwasher door that is broken, and if not handled properly could crash down to the floor and break your toe). The second step leading to my door is broken - please watch your step so you don't trip. The roof still needs to be swept, and Mark only painted the front and back of the house 6 years ago (SIX!), but never got to the sides. Yet, it is my home, in a great community neighbourhood, full of 100' tall fir and cedar trees. I know that how it looks is really not as important as the people we welcome inside. God bless this home.
1 comment:
Ahh, perspective.
You asked me to move back to PoCo a while back, but, honestly, I have exactly what you described. Yes, my friend, I miss you terribly, I'm not fond of the bridge, but this is such a wonderful home and neighbourhood. I too am grateful and love where I live!
Thank you, for some great thoughts, some great perspective, and a great friendship - just a couple of blocks and over the bridge away.
Love, D.
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