The Honeymoon Is Over

You may recall that last April, I bought an old house. You may also recall that my dad thought I was crazy for wanting said old house, and should instead purchase something newly constructed. I promptly ignored him, and have been living blissfully in my charming old home.

Feelings of blissfulness…they rarely last.

Don’t get me wrong, I still adore my home. It’s just that, well, lately I’ve realized that the honeymoon is over, so to speak. At first, I could see nothing wrong with my “new” house. Everything was perfect, even if it wasn’t. I could see no flaws in my 1921 craftsman. But then, little by little, I began noticing things.

The first time I noticed a “flaw” was while taking a bath in one of my clawfoot tubs on a lazy Sunday afternoon. I looked up, and saw missing paint near my ceiling. Then, after putting away Christmas decorations, I saw a crack in the plaster on the staircase. Both times I thought to myself, “When did that happen? Surely it wasn’t like that when I moved in.” And, just last week, I noticed that some wood on my front porch is warped. (After which I began running around like a crazy person after the rain to dry the porch off with towels.)

It became clear to me, though, that the honeymoon was indeed over when I turned on the sink in the downstairs bathroom and water ran onto the floor. And clearer still when Ben shut the door to the linen closet and had to get out the tools to get the door back open.

I was seriously starting to lose my patience with her quirkiness when I remembered how I felt when I first saw her. Even at first glance, I knew I was home. So, I’ve decided to cut her a little slack. After all, homes – just like relationships – have to be maintained so that we stay happy in them. There is always room for improvement.