Metal Meredith

We are one step closer now

Phil and I have tentatively found a house. I say it like this because I am the queen of not getting my hopes up too far.

After an exhaustive 2 weeks of looking and one week of torture, after a donation from the Bank of Mom and Phil and I sulking after the rejection of a second counter offer, after going from neighborhood to neighborhood comparing them all to this one house, we have put a contract on it. It’s a fairly unattractive 1977 cape cod. But it’s HUGE and it has so much possibility. Let me also mention that it has a shed that was built especially for motorcycles (which is really the only thing that sold Phil). It is double what we have now on the same sized lot.

I have been decorating this house for a week now. I woke up at 630am this morning deciding what sink I must put in the upstairs bath. I had the IKEA catalog out at 645am, perusing through colors, ideas and furniture. For those of you that know me well, you already know that IKEA is calling my name about now. It’s taking all my self control not to start marking up the catalog like a Christmas list.

When our Realtor, who I just love, called tonight to deliver part one of the good news, my thoughts immediately went to my house binder. I had a binder when we were moving into this house. It had a section for each room. I taped colors, furniture photos, fabric, ideas, sketches of rooms, and the like all on paper that was in this binder. Everyone (everyone but Ronni, thanks) made fun of me until the house was put together. Then they started asking how I did it. Neener Neener Neener.

I thrive on this and just can’t tell you how fun this will be. Even with a 2 year old and even under stress of selling my current home, I am so excited about having a big, new project. (Did I mention the 1977 carpet *shudder*).

I am hoping my updates will be more frequent now that phase one is coming to a close. This house will go n the market on May 1st. Please wish us luck and someone with deep pockets. We sure could use it now.

Take Care!
Meredith

Out with the old, In with the......less old.

My love of all things bungalow is being tested in a new way. I have found a 1900 sq ft Tri-Level built in 1973 that has all the comforts of home on the inside, but is wretched on the outside. I am starting to wonder if this is my true test “Never judge a book by the eyes of its beholder”…blah blah blah.

I have always been a fan of the cottage house. Phil and I often talk about how our perfect house would have a comfy wing with bright colors and comfortable surroundings and another that was mostly glass, chrome and grey. (He also wanted robots on his side…but that’s another story.) Never in my scenario did I see the house I grew up in.

Our house in Greenfield was a Tri-Level. I was 4 when we moved in and 11 when we moved out. I remember it had no central air, the wood paneled den, the cold unfinished basement room where the washer and dryer lived. I also recall the screened in porch where my mother broke my last pacifier, my sister made out with various boyfriends after school and where I tortured my poor dogs to do tricks in baby clothes. I remember my room from one incarnation to another, child to pre-teen. I can vividly recall our first microwave, cable TV, and VCR. I can still smell the pine tree I climbed, feel the sidewalk I skated down and relive the day I got my first puppy. I can still conjure up the emotions felt when I was too young to understand that hostages in Iran weren’t taken from their houses in the US, the nervousness of not knowing why Mom was so upset that she drank a bottle of wine (I am pretty sure that was the Savings and Loan debacle from the first Mr. Bush) and seeing my Dad cry for the first time after losing his job. Could they have been the age I am now? Younger even?

Maybe that house wasn’t so bad after all?

Recently, my Mom told me that she never liked that house. They bought it for more room, to have more space for the family, to buy some time for the “dream house” that was sure to be in their future. I have to admit that this made me feel much better. I soon realized that this didn’t have to be my dream house. Although I want to like it, it doesn’t have to define who I am. I have to live there, be happy, grow as a family and as a married couple, and maybe get a dog. Who knows?

In my head I have always known that we would end up in a split level of some sort for our second home. They are roomy and seem to have all the amenities a new family needs (*ahem* DISHWASHER ahem). Although this one is ugly on the outside, Phil and I will be making the appointment to take a look at the inside. We are both cautiously optimistic. I think I am surrendering to the possibility, while Phil is still holding out for something fabulous but cheap…with robots.