Ode To My House

I love my house, or town home, whatever you want to call it. Mostly I call it home.

We have lived here for a little over two years. For five years before that, we lived in a bonafide rat hole.

Most of the time, my house is messy and cluttered. But when it is clean and the sun is shinning , my home sings!(No really it does!)

My kitchen is large enough for more than one person to be in it at a time. I love it when my Mom cooks in my kitchen. I have more than enough cupboard space. Some of the cupboards are holding just random stuff like bubbles and Cd's. And maybe some candy that I have hidden away Grandma Whitney style. But my most favorite thing about my kitchen?

Yep. The dishwasher. (But the flat top stove that my awesome husband insisted I upgrade to, is pretty sweet too.)

We have a great neighborhood here too. At the rat hole, we had watched neighbors being pulled out of their homes by the police more than twice, a bomb scare complete with those bomb squad robot things, one block to the east. And the first murder in Gardner in ten years, two blocks to the west. (Let's not talk about the trains, please.)

But here, we have great neighbors. Kelly, the one with the cheesy grin, once ran across the street like a little girl to eat cupcakes with my parents and I for my daughter's birthday. She regaled us with her breast implant story(s). The look on my Dad's face was awesome. (My husband did traumatize Mary, our closest neighbor to the west, our first morning here, but that is a story for another post.)

But what I love the absolute most about my house has nothing to do with the house it's self, but what's in the house. My family is just so cool!

(And in case you were wondering if my little boy ever wears pants, the answer is no, not very often.)