Yesterday marked 2 years to the date that Brad and I closed on our house and moved (with help, of course) all of our belongings into our pretty little patch o' earth (and brick and siding). It's really something to think about: I'm a homeowner!? That's probably not such a big deal for a lot people, but for me it's kind of far out (dude) to think, This space belongs to me (and mine) and I can have it be how I want it to be.
The downside to that, of course, is that I'm also responsible for it. Which means I'm responsible for the 3-ft. stump (still) gracing our front yard where a beautiful and perfectly shaped ornamental pear tree once stood - until the wind in a nasty storm decided it hated our sweet tree and made a mess out of it. And I'm also responsible for the shutter that the wind blew off during yet another storm; the slowly crumbling retaining wall out back; the yard that has swiftly progressed this summer to a 65:35 weed-to-grass ratio . . . .
Can Brad be responsible for those things and I'll just take the inside of the house?
But seriously, it's a nifty (and kind of weird) thing to look around at all of our neighbors, most of whom have 15+ years on us, and think, We belong here. We're just like you guys. Only with a shabbier lawn. :)