The House That Mary Built

I'm moving a bit more slowly than usual this Sunday morning. Nothing wrong, I just feel lazy. Reading the blogs of my blogging friends has become a regular routine. It's something I look forward to. This morning two of my friends wrote about places they lived in the past and it made me look back.

While Ricky was visiting he asked me to show him the house that I built in the early 90s. I loved that house but sold it because I needed the highly inflated equity to make life easier. After selling the new house I moved back to the house where I lived prior to building. The house I built - or should say had built - was across town from the old neighborhood. It had a small front yard and a huge back yard that bordered a wild life preserve. The house was too large for one person but I had something to prove and let pride and determination guide the plans. When Ricky and I parked on the street in front of the house I had a moment of pride in what I was able to accomplish followed by teary eyes thinking of how far I've come. We rang the doorbell and explained to the young man (a soldier home on leave from Iraq) that I had the house built and was the first to live there. He invited us inside and showed us through the downstairs rooms. I was pleased that everything is still lovely and well cared for. The sunroom was filled with plants and the back yard was as well groomed as the front. Memories of the bobcat mother that had kits under the deck, the wild boar eating my sage, the deer drinking from the birdbath and then eating my favorite rose bush, and all the small animals that visited my yard were unbelievably vivid. I had a content life there but nothing to compare with my life now. I'm happy to have had the experience and I savor the memories but wouldn't trade what I have for anything.

Ok, I've rambled on and proved, yet again, that I'm an old woman who may look back but feels blessed by the now. Have a good day.