This old house

Today marked the end of an era, today I farewelled our old house. I rattled around in its empty rooms, J crawling around at my feet, his excited cries echoing around the walls.

This old house, it was our home for six years. I first walked in its door with a young man I’d just started seeing – he cooked me dinner. After that, I was a regular visitor. I fell in love with its cottage charm, its views down to the valley below and the hills in the distance – all the little houses dotted amongst the green. I also fell in love with the man who lived here. Five months later, I moved in. Continue reading

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Taking the leap

This week we each took a big breath, held our noses and dove feet first into the deep end of the pool.

We put a contract on our first house.

It’s been a long time coming for us. We watched alot of friends diving in years ago while we clung to the edge held back by circumstances and other choices. We got married, A took on an apprenticeship, we had a baby. But throughout that time we kept saving as much as we could and held tight, helped by cheap rent in our little old cottage we’ve called home for the past almost six years.

The longer we waited, the more the pressure to join the masses wore off – people stopped asking when we would buy, we stopped worrying about it and enjoyed our time here. In our cute cottage with two bedrooms, where the paint was peeling only 4 kilometres from the city, and with a view out the back which I never get tired of (above). Continue reading