1 - A few weeks ago, David and I started a conversation about different impressions we've had since moving into our home. It was interesting to note that we've both received guidance and little nudges, if you will, in regards to this new stage in our family's life. I especially liked his. He said one night he went out to turn off the sprinkler, and while on the side of the house, in the dark, a strong feeling came, and the thought that he needed to make sure to create memories for his family in this home, and that he needed to be purposeful in providing traditions for our children to look forward to. I love that, I love the mental image I have of that experience.
2 - Last week we visited the joco children's museum, and they have a play structure for kids built to resemble an old farmstead. It's complete with pretend chicken coop, laundry line, wood burning stove, and water that is pumped into the house via well. The kids were having a blast playing and I was reading some of the signs around the exhibit. To the best of my recollection, one was a letter written by the mayor (around the turn of the century?) to residents encouraging them, to the best of their ability, to make their homes clean and safe and beautiful. And he particularly said that their children would benefit from those efforts. And I chuckled, but kind of loved the idea that the mayor published that.
3 - I'm really excited about our little bathroom transformation. We rewired for sconces, painted and hung a different mirror. I say "we" but my only contribution to these projects are ideas and maybe some finishing touches. (and lots of praise! "oh honey, you're amazing!") We've got a slew of projects on deck, and I'm totally embracing the entire process. (please remind me I said that in a few months when I'm going crazy) But really. I think the secret is that the dreaming and planning and hard work are actually the best parts. Of course the end result is lovely, but forever and ever my memories are linked to process. I do like to recall how beautiful I felt the basement in our first home turned out. But even more I find we say, "remember when the Baileys and Ballantynes came over almost every Friday night and we ordered pizza and the girls talked nonstop upstairs while the guys wired the entire downstairs?" Or, "remember that one time you and your brother were messing with a pipe in the basement and a gush of water shot straight out and missed baby Zach (sitting in his carseat) by six inches!?" It's messy and imperfect, but there is a lot of magic happening in the middle, in the creation.