People are moving out of this neighborhood in droves. It's a great area, so a surprising number of folks are moving a whopping few blocks away... well, building and THEN moving a few blocks away. This little neighborhood is kinda what you might call "starter homes" mostly built by one particular builder within the past five years...and our house was actually one of the cheapest of the selection that they offered. The homes that are going in a few blocks away are nicer and larger.
I have a few big gripes about the house... like the kitchen is at the front of the house with no window to watch kids play in the backyard. The kitchen has the tiniest skrids for counter tops and minimal storage (drawers and cabinetry). The only way to get to the backyard from inside the house is via the garage, so I have a visual of kids walking or running past the van parked inside on their way to the backyard and in their hands they have, well, it's the Chaos Girls it could be anything, and the anything is gouging a long scratchy crevasse in the paint job... the end. And the laundry is downstairs I don't care for that.
Dadguy and I have talked about doing what everyone else is doing, and upgrading to larger and nicer. But the time just isn't right, and my main dissatisfaction's with the house are outweighed by the way that I love the vaulted ceilings in the front room, the large bedrooms and the fact that we have only lived here for four and a half years. Sheesh... we have yet to even paint!
I don't really have a beef with the size of the house overall... there is a little less than 1200 finished upstairs and almost the same amount unfinished in the basement. The plan is to finish at least a family room, stairwell and a hallway with doors so we can shut the doors to the unfinished bits down there... and we have the dough socked away for it if we are careful and do most of it ourselves... ooops!
Yesterday I remembered another thing about the house that I love... the way that it feels when you step into it from playing or working outside. The way that it smells. It's kind of similar to the sensation of coming home from a long trip, similar only stronger. I don't know how or why, but I love the way it feels and I love the yard that Dadguy and I agonised over. I love the flowers and shrubs most of which are freebies from the yards of various family and friends. The few precious plants that came from my Granny's yard. I love the trees that came to live with us last year.
The Iris are sending up stong looking green blades, the periwinkle has popped in a couple of protected nooks and the flox had two wee blooms before surrendering to the Chaos. It is finally starting to resemble something close to springtime around here... and I feel like I have room to breathe again. Move? Not on yer life!