I took these photos more than a month ago. When everything had just begun to sprout and the anticipation of the garden’s produce was still new. But now, we have already harvested peas, chives, potatoes, beets, and carrots, and just as quickly as it seems this garden has sprouted and grown things, our life has changed.
In just a few hopefully short weeks, we will be closing on the sale of a home. Our first house. In just a few weeks, we’ll officially be homeowners, and that thought blows my mind. I have dreamed of owning my own house for years but didn’t think it would happen this soon, nor did I expect the place we found to be THIS perfect.
We have been house hunting for about six months now. Ever since approximately November, when the rental we live in was sold and we wondered what would happen to us with the new owners – who completely renovated the other side of the house and are waiting very patiently for us to vacate on our own time so they can renovate our side, too. Through the entire process, my husband got a new job unexpectedly (but very happily) and we began searching in the new area which is about 1 hour away from where we currently live. The search seemed cursed.
Every house we saw in our (admittedly small) budget was wrong. Whether it be that the area was terrible (just off a busy main road with NO yard? no!) or the home itself hadn’t been taken care of (warping floors, sinking corners, and one home whose yard and garden was literally enveloping it!) or we were beaten out by another offer (oh house with the grand piano that came with you, I’ll think of you fondly), we couldn’t find a thing. Rentals, too, were taken away from us. A cute 1950’s duplex that ended up having an application before us go through; an apartment that only allowed up to 3 people per unit; a house that didn’t respond until it was too late. Nothing was working.
And then, we finally geared up for one last house hunt before we gave up and just decided to find the quickest rental we could. We lined up six houses to go see, and met our realtor at the first one. Which, on the way to it, popped up from my Zillow notifications as having a pending offer. The second house on the route was a no-go, as our realtor had stopped by and found it to be falling apart and not worth our time. The third house was one we had already seen- also falling apart, sadly – the fourth was a short sale that we couldn’t be approved for, and the fifth had warped floors, was being enveloped by vines, and had dog hair literally carpeting its floor.
Disheartened, we decided to visit the sixth and final home, fully expecting that it, too, would be a no. It was by far the oldest home we had looked at – in our search we wanted homes pre-1960 homes but were open to really anything – and had been built in 1901. As the oldest home, we expected it would likely be in much disrepair. And as parents of three small children, we knew we couldn’t take on more than a few large issues in a home, and needed something that was more-or-less move in ready with only small changes needed.
But before we even arrived at the home, I was in love. I was in love with the drive to it, the fields of flowers and cows and farmland, the distant view of the mountain over the trees, the feel of being in the country even though it’s only about 15 minutes away from a larger town and 4 minutes away from a smaller town. I was in love when we turned up the driveway and saw the large oak trees in the yard, the big old barn in the field, the mature fruit trees around the drive and yard, the cute little overhang over the patio. It felt, truly, like home. Like no other house I had hoped for and we had offered for, it felt right.
We walked in through the old back porch – now the front porch and laundry room – and I was charmed by the large windows letting light in, the shelves all along the wall, the circular layout, and the old touches still around the house. A little broom closet by the kitchen. The giant windows through the house. The pellet stove, the propane fireplace, the absolutely huge living room, and the quaint bedrooms. The butler’s pantry. Though it was outdated and in want of some love and care, it felt perfect for us.
I could see us raising our children there, adding on if we needed more space, and being at peace there. In the country, where I can raise my children, have chickens, garden, get cats, and generally be a vintage farm life housewife. I still cannot fathom that in just a few weeks this will be our life.
Currently we are waiting for all of the little details to come together. The sale is so far going swimmingly and should close just as soon as all of the technicalities can be taken care of. The owners are happy to know that a family with children will be living in the home – and I am thrilled to know that, as far as I am aware, we are only the third owners of this modest 1901 farmhouse. Imagine, all of that history and only three owners! It nearly makes me giddy.
I have wanted to have space to garden and have chickens and cats for so long that I can barely believe our luck. I cannot wait to make the house a home, and to share it here! I know my blog doesn’t get many hits or views these days – and I get it, I don’t update consistently any more! – but I’m excited because I know content will be changing to what I’ve always hoped it would become. Home life, garden life, farm life, and style. Soon, the blog will finally evolve in a way I’ve always dreamed it would, and I cannot wait!
Till then, I don’t know when I’ll update again but I hope soon with any other things that we experience along the way.