For my part it simply meant quitting my perfect job and giving up my very own house that I'd purchased, and moving to a new city. Into a much older, crooked house, giving up my one-story for a two-story. It also meant that I was adding a very handsome, very loving life partner to my world and that was worth the trade.
Even though it is worth it, it's work. More work than we imagined, I dare say. Work as in emotional adjustment for both of us, but physical work. As I've mentioned in the about us, this house is 90 years old and crooked. Literally. Reworked, redesigned by a man not thinking of the kitchen "stuff" a woman does, such as the need for counters and storage. Making it ours has been huge fun and the parade of ladders, paint, and power tools will continue for a quite a while. I wasn't very good about visually documenting the house and yard when I first moved in, but I'll scrounge up those pics and from this point out document this incredible journey....inside and outside the house.
The Big House on Frog Hill....aka Frog Hill Farm. View is on the diagonal showing the pipes. We are hoping to paint the pipes forest green sometime....cool artsy touch.
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Front entry....we anticipate putting a storm/screen door of some type here and the little mudroom area between first door and second will get painted a sunny yellow, eventually getting rid of the carpet in that area and truly creating a mudroom entry.
