Who am I talking about?
Our house, of course.
We met her nine months ago, fell in deep like and knew it would be love if we gave it time. So we signed on the dotted line--over and over-- and took the plunge to begin a relationship with the smart-looking one with the big yard.
But just how every romance finds itself contending with previously unmentionables like bad breath and loud gas, our house is settling in and getting comfortable enough to show her rougher side.
A sprinkler system with busted pipes--even though we had a professional clear the lines before the first cold snap hit.
The swamp cooler that is pouring water all over the roof as I type this--even though we drained it properly, as well.
A washing machine that never works when I need it to, but only when it's good and ready...usually hours after the load begins.
Closets that never smelled are now emitting mysterious and unpleasant mustiness.
A missing screen door that didn't seem so important at the time.
Pine trees whose shade creates dead patches on the grass.
So yes, we are a little dismayed.
Our dream home is a little (lot) more work than we imagined. She requires more time, personal sacrifice, and the willingness to realign our priorities with reality.
Just like our marriage.
And yet, there are so many things we love about our house- more to love than to be hassled by.
Also, just like our marriage.
So while we're not happy we're going to have to slow down and do the work to repair, maintain, and improve, it's still worth it with this dear old house....even if she is a tad past her prime, a bit high maintenance and a little complicated.
Because when it comes right down to it, so are we.
So here's to you, you wonderful, impossible, perfect-fit of a house.
And here's to another five years with you, Bill. Anywhere with you, I'm home.
Happy Anniversary, Love.