Six years ago, we moved into our dream house.
The timing of the move was questionable; I was halfway through the final year of my nursing degree, and in the same week as house settlement, about to go into mid-year exams. Our kids were little, with one settling into Prep, and one still at home with me, and quite frankly, it was all complete and utter chaos.
You see, although we’d outgrown our old house, we actually had no intention of moving. In fact, in the weeks before finding our current house, we’d actually resigned ourselves to sucking it up, and just making do until the end of the year, when I could begin to contribute an income to our household budget, and when the kids were a little big bigger.
Ahhh yes, well you know what they say about the best laid plans, and all that malarchy. The Universe had some other plans for us, it seems.
I was typing up some uni notes ones day, when I saw that Hot Husband had sent me an email with a real-estate listing in it that his brother had forwarded to him.
“I know we aren’t looking”, he wrote. “But this house is a similar age to what we’ve just renovated. It might be worth looking at it just to see how the pricing varies in that area”.
As I scrolled through the listing, I was interested, but not particularly impressed. I could see what he was getting at: the house was in an area we had previously discussed being quite keen on, and although a bit dated, I could see that most of the renovation potential was fairly superficial and cosmetic.
“I suppose I could go for a look”, I emailed him back. “It looks like a bit of work in it though”.
Later that week, as I met the agent at the front of the house, I genuinely expected to stroll through, admire the layout politely, suss out some pricing, and get out of there, with the intention of screening all phone calls for the next 2 months to avoid any kind of follow up. I really was just window shopping, for want of a better description.
Until I walked in, and I realised that I was standing in our family’s future home.
I can’t tell you exactly what it was about it. There was a whole lot of timber trim that I could see needed some renovation love, but the bones of the place were ridiculously fabulous, and the natural light that flooded through the windows was just divine. The rose garden was still in bloom, and I could see immediately how much care had been taken in that garden. The real estate listing hadn’t highlighted the beauty of the staircase, or the clever use of space, or the gorgeous timber flooring. In fact, it hadn’t done much of a job of selling the property at all. Looking past the dated window furnishings and light fittings, I was blown away by how beautiful this house really was.
I walked out into the back yard, finding myself looking out into trees and greenery for as far as the eye could see, and I knew that I was in strife. I was in love.
I pulled out my phone.
“You need to see this house” I told Hot Husband. “No question. When can you come?”.
You see, it wasn’t just the physical features of the house that had captured my heart. It was much more than that.
I could feel from the very second I walked in the front door, that this was a home that had been full of love. This house felt warm, and safe, and full of memories, and as though it was just ready for our family to move in and continue it’s story. This was a house that had seen children grow, and change, and eventually move on. This was a house that had held the hopes and dreams of it’s inhabitants, and that had seen celebrations, and commiserations, and everything in between. This was a house full of stories, and history, laughter and tears. It was a home.
To cut a long story short, Hot Husband felt the same magic about the place that I did. And despite the renovation work we knew was ahead of us, and the shitty timing of finding the perfect bloody house in the midst of the busiest year of our lives to date, and the” interesting” financial situation we found ourselves in as we tried to figure out how to sell a house and buy another one on one income, everything fell into place, exactly as it was meant to. That wonderful home full of love, was now OUR wonderful home, and we were now a part of it’s story.
As time has gone on, we’ve chipped away at renovations, bit by bit, and brought our own style to the place. It’s not conventionally perfect, nor will it ever be. And I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who would wonder what on earth we see in it.
But, since we’ve moved in, we’ve created a tonne of memories here, and without a word of a lie, there has not been a single day since we turned the key in the door for the first time, that I haven’t felt so lucky and thankful that we found it, even though it was absolutely the last thing we were looking for at the time.
They say home is where the heart is, and I agree. This home had a whole lot of heart before we found it, and we are lucky enough to simply be adding to it as we go.
Life can be messy, and unpredictable, for sure. But more often than not, it leads us to where we are supposed to be, even if we don’t know it at the time. Six years ago, it led us here. And as I sit on the couch, in the living room of this house that I love so much, I couldn’t be happier about it if I tried.
Happy Anniversary, House.