I miss bookshelves full of books.

I miss dark hardwoods.
Four inch baseboards.
I want to finish painting my house.
Then I can hang art.
And find places for things.

If my husband is reading this he just cringed. Not about the art, about the things.

Owning a home is such a strange feeling.
There is so much more to get done and so much more time to do it.
The key is actually doing it.

Almost a year in and we have scraped popcorn ceilings out of 3 bedrooms, a bathroom and a big living space. We have painted ceilings in several rooms and painted walls in many as well. Bryce and his dad replaced both french doors with sliders. He built a rock climbing wall. We cleaned and power washed 3/4 of the deck. And built a fence.
I have made many many many crafts and artshits in the craftroom.
We have had an almost endless stream of friends and family and made mountains of new memories.

With all that being said, I still want a bookshelf, full of my favorite books.

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