Commonly, by now, you know I do stories about other people and other places.  Occasionally though, I tap into my narcissistic side and post about my personal journey.  Those of you who may read in a more devoted fashion might have noticed a few less emails in your inbox these days.  (Since we all receive way too many emails, it was likely a welcomed respite.) These images give you a glimpse into why there have been crickets in the place stories.  It turns out that sometimes I simply can’t do everything all the time and be everywhere at once.  Who knew?!  

Dave and I began a journey of making a home… sometimes more literally than we bargained for.  We purchased a home in the middle of town (which is the lifestyle we love – close to trains, restaurants and bars) and have jumped full force into revitalizing what was once a turn of the century beauty that be came a run down drug house in one capacity or another.  

We’ve heard the stories from neighbors and even realtors that live a ways away.  Apparently this gem carries quite a sad history of the reality of poverty and the choices that sometimes come hand in hand with that reality.  Despite that downer, we’ve really embraced our situation and do what one can only do in times like these… laugh. “Remember the time we bought a crack house?”, I ask Dave.  He smiles and we rip up another slab of unidentifiable splotches on carpet.  We question the substance in between carpet and laminate.  We toss it all in the trash and move on.

In all honesty, we have been in love with the idea and (thus far) our process of making this place ours.  There’s nothing so cathartic as demolition and peeling away the old to reveal something better buried underneath.  

I will be bringing updates along the way.  I hope you enjoy my self-indulgent journey and maybe find commiseration and a good laugh or too, if you too are a home owner.