We have loved our yellow house at the end of this quiet dirt road, and we hope you love it as much as we have. Each room, bare in its perfectly staged way, is actually stuffed to the gills with memories. Good and bad, these memories are what make a house a home, a group of people a family, and a couple actually a couple. I'm both sad and ready to leave. My heart is filled with gratitude for the lessons learned within these walls, but I'm ready to be move on to the next chapter of my life.
But I have hopes for you. They're really high hopes. I hope I bury any bad juju (if you even believe in it) in the backyard, weighing it down with the heftiest rocks I can carry so they don't get passed on to you. Instead, this what I hope for you:
- I hope you have kids that run like crazy in the yard and in the woods, working their imaginations like our trio did with forts and play and swings that wouldn't pass a single safety inspection.
- I hope you join them while playing in the creeks, throwing rocks and taking your shoes off and wading in the cool water, leaving your iPhones and adulthood back in the house.
- I hope you dance in the kitchen a lot more than we did, because dancing--especially wild, bad dancing--is what you should do when you live in the woods and no one but the trees can see in.
- I hope you look out on the trees and watch them sway in the Spring storms, with the upper boughs moving violently but the strong, sturdy oaks proving what a strong foundation is and can do.
- I hope you enjoy the front porch with your friends and your family, sitting on the side where there's always a breeze, letting the grown-ups sit and talk while all the kids run free.
- I hope you have a dog (or two), maybe one like our Lulu whose last steps were taken here--with a bark that made strangers stop in their tracks but a tail that waggled and wiggled her whole body.
- I hope you sit on the back deck after the kids go to sleep instead of watching TV and instead chat with each other, or maybe just sit quietly as the fireflies dart around.
- I hope you don't get too frantic if you're stuck here in a snowstorm. You've got a generator, a really great fireplace, and all the people that you really need around you.
- I hope you love the claw-foot tub--I sure did! I really did want a lock on the door (the contractor thought I was joking, sorry about that).
Good luck in this house. Love it, love each other, and enjoy!