A house into a home.

I have never felt completely myself or at ease in big, modern spaces. 

That's not to say I don't appreciate that aesthetic, because I do -- but personally, I'd always envisioned my future home to be smaller; quaint; intimate; cozy.

It's been a little over a month since Husband and I laid eyes on this little house... and after several stressful back-and-forths, I still can't believe this charmer is finally going to be ours by year-end.

It still feels slightly surreal -- one night, I dreamt that the seller was a curmudgeonly man who refused to give up his home to us; the next, our realtor congratulated us, emailing us a copy of the ratified contract with the final, mutually agreed-upon price. 

I pinched myself. Is this real? 

I pinched myself again.

This is real. This is really happening. And I feel so thankful and blessed and excited and humbled to be in this position.

There is so, so much left to do. 

I am so, so looking forward to it all!

I am so silly.

Husband and I recently asked each other, 

"What do you want for Christmas this year?"

I thought about it.

And thought about it.

And all I could think of was, 

I am so silly. Everything I want is silly.

...

I mean, wouldn't you want a pet piglet (or two), too?