day six : from a low angle

This little ole crooked country house is our home.  Casa de chaos.  

While its looks may not be pristine to some, it is full of beauty in my eyes.  This white house, built in 1908, has offered us lots to love and lots of love.  It has offered us a warm place to gather with family, a safe place for the kiddos to grow and a comfortable place for us to raise our children. 

It has its downfalls, just as any other house would, but we accept her in all her glory.  

The peeling paint shows her age and the tough job she has had to withstand many a storms and winds, yet always providing us with safety.  Her base has shifted slightly with each of those storms yet she still remains strong for our family.   She has seen some slight cosmetic changes, but she accepts them all as beautifying her soul.  

I know the kiddos will remember this house as they grow older and will probably want to come back to visit it in many years to come.   I hope she stands long enough for them to do that and remember how they ran through the hall, climbed out the window, played on the front porch, danced around the living room, helped cook in the country kitchen and played in the yard.   I hope their memories of her are fond.  

But moreso than that, I hope they remember the love our family shared in this house.

 

Side story:  Sometime within our first year in the house, we were given a bucketful of spineless cactus from our neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. G.  We promptly planted two of them, about a foot in height, along the front of the white picket fence that bordered the side yard.  They have grown there since and now cover both sides of the fence and stand just about as tall as myself.  Their growth is very symbolic of how our friendship has blossomed with the Gs through the years.