Two years ago this week we went on our first house-hunting expedition, to look at a really lovely little house. Which, after several visits to other houses, we just kept coming back to and wound up buying. So it is that same lovely little house that I’m sitting in right now.

It’s funny to think about that; it seems like both so long ago and so recently, in different ways. And it really is a lovely little house, all the more so because it’s ours now, full of our memories and our cats and our favorite things. It’s funny now to think that we had reservations; I barely even remember what they were. I know there were a couple of repair things we were concerned about, some of which we’ve fixed and some of which are still lurking on our “things to do one day when we have time and money” list. But this is so clearly our own beloved home, I can’t imagine trading it in for any of the other places we looked at.

When Len comes upstairs from building whatever it is he’s building in the garage, I must remember to tell him that Wednesday is our house-iversary. (Or one of them; I suppose spring, when we actually bought the house, is another house-iversary.) I wonder if I can convince him that we should buy the house a present to celebrate? I think maybe the house wants new curtains.