Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Our (FINALLY!) House

Last week, on a gray, drizzly Thursday, we bought a house. A week or so earlier, Kevin and I picked up a copy of 



from Trohv (formerly Red Tree).  Below the title it reads, "The Story of Our Home."  It has prompts for you to tell the story of how you found the house, bought the house, and made it your "home."  It also has a number of spaces for suggested photos, such as "When the Realtor Hands You the Keys."  Now, this is my first home-buying experience, but the key exchange ended up not striking me as a particularly photographic moment.  Especially considering that the sellers, not our realtor, handed us the keys.  But I did have visions of us taking cheesy photos opening the front door for the first time, or posed next to the mailbox.  But, as I mentioned, it was a dreary, rainy day, and not really fit for photo-taking.  In fact, I didn't even go back to the house after we had the walk-through and closing.  If the photos were going to be staged, anyway, we might as well save them for a nice day.

We did spend our first night as new homeowners at the house, though.  I have to admit, once I was in the house and it was ours, I felt a lot like what I imagine my cat felt like the first time she came to (then) Kevin's house.  Like most house cats, Snuffles hasn't really gotten around very much.  Before we moved into the townhouse, my Hampden apartment was the only home she'd known.  She had also been to my parent's and Darra's house, but always seemed to adapt almost immediately once she got there.  So, the first time I brought her to (then) Kevin's house, I wasn't concerned at all; she seemed comfortable at my parent's and Darra's, so surely she'd relax quickly here, as well.  False.  When we let her out of her kitty carrier, she cautiously crawled out and slinked around the house, close to the ground, tail whipping.  She would freeze, crouched down with hair raised, and yowl.

This is how I felt when we were alone for the first time in our new house.  It was big.  It didn't look like our house.  It smelled funny.  I didn't, and still really don't, know what to make of it.  It confused and overwhelmed me.  As I posted on my Facebook page, this was not my beautiful house!  (they just don't make music videos the way they used to, do they? Take a look and enjoy the old-school green screen.)

Despite the weirdness, we poured two glasses of port that we had saved from our 2007 wine trip to California, and toasted our new place.

If you look closely, you can still see some of the terror in my eyes.

We introduced Snuffles to the new house on Saturday.  But that's another post. I will say, although I was terrified it wouldn't happen, she did become comfortable in (then) Kevin's house within a week, and now considers it "home."  So, I think there's hope for both of us.

The first of many cheesy posed shots.

2 comments:

  1. It never feels like home until the furniture and everything else is there. I recall hearing that the plan was to have people help with moving in on the 9th. Is that correct? I am recovered from my illness and bound and determined to do something productive this weekend. Yes, even if that means helping with a move in. BTW, I hope you and not Kevin "5 Dollar Port" picked that bottle out.

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  2. This reminds me, while I'm thinking about it, can you send me your new mailing address? Mostly so I don't forget that I need a new one come Christmas time, but you never know when real mailing addresses might come in handy anyway...

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