So, we bought a house. I bought a house. In America.
It’s not the first house that we’ve owned, although it does represent a lot of other firsts – not least, first house in a foreign country, which is freighted with so much of its own weirdness (all good weirdness, but still) – and so it feels somehow inaugural, you know? I bought this. And I bought it here. Which means that we’re staying here, for a while. It means that we’re rooted.
It also means that I now feel that I have to deliver on all the Pinterest promises that I’ve made to myself about this house.
The images and text might be too small to see here (the original board is – wait for it – ON PINTEREST) but for what it’s worth, based on this board I seem to have planned a natural pool with floating walkway, a writing cabin, a playhouse, a guest house, an attic nook, a nap swing, an outdoor workspace and a zip line. Oh, and a perfectly executed all-white country kitchen with chandelier. Which, you know, I am not one-hundred percent sure that I can execute with my limited design skills and resources from the nearest Home Depot.
This was all fine when my pin board was strictly a matter of fantasy. Now that I have the opportunity to make them a reality I am gripped with Pinterest anxiety and insecurity (Pinsecurity? Pinxiety?) because, hell. HOW AM I GOING TO BUILD THAT ZIPLINE? It’s not like I can just NOT build a zip line. I PIN-PLANNED it. It is part of the Pinterest Dream that I took steps to make real by MAKING A PIN BOARD ABOUT IT. If I fail to deliver on the one Pinterest board that actually has real-life applications, WHAT KIND OF WOMAN AM I?
Anyway. We’ll see. I’m going to try to make that zip line happen. And that writing cabin, and that playhouse, and that nap swing. Certainly that all-white kitchen with chandelier. And maybe it’s going to be a stupid hot mess, and end up a jumble sale tableaux with IKEA discount backfill. Who knows. I will TRY.
And regardless of how it turns out, it will still my house (which is adorable, by the way, all on its own, on a pretty little acre with a big old-fashioned garage and a pond and wisteria and an old stone wall running all the way around). Our house. Our root here. Our place.
And that’s quite something in itself.
