This year for our anniversary we decided to take an extended Labor Day weekend, splurge on a few nice meals out (Shalimar, Siam Square), eat all the ice cream we could ever want, and enjoy being at home. Each morning we chose whatever adventure sounded best for the day. This took the form of reading for hours without feeling guilty, pretending like we had some money while we window shopped and completely enjoying our house.
I love our house. Seriously.
Sure, it’s got a fraction of a percent of radon seeping through the basement floor and there’s a foot-long segment of pipe snugly wrapped in asbestos in the basement. These are the things that used to keep me up at night as a first time homeowner. But recently I’ve started to gloss over what I used to view as lurking death and instead see them as just a few of the little (and well-maintained) quirks of an 85 year old bungalow.
Now that I’m embracing all aspects of our house, five days at home flew. Regan and I agreed that if this is as good as it gets, it’s pretty good.
There’s a lot to love — both inside and out.
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