After an exhaustive, entirely unscientific study consisting of Being Married and Putting On My Blogging Cap, I have concluded that there are exactly two kinds of people who live in homes.
House People and Not House People.
I devour posts on Houzz, have a subscription to This Old House magazine, and when the new IKEA catalog is released I have been known to disappear with it, a bottle of wine, a few candles, and express Do Not Disturb instructions unless the house is not only on fire, but being invaded by rabid chipmunks dressed as ninjas.
For several months my husband refused to enter the store that rhymes with Foam Weepo after the Great!Door!Debacle!, aka The Home Improvement Nightmare That Shall Not Be Named.
I’ll give you the briefest of moments to determine just who in this relationship is a House Person.
So, as we have gone on this
fustercluck adventure known as Buying A House From 900 Miles Away, we’ve had just a few differing opinions on homes. He would, ideally, love a home that is turn-key ready and has a troupe of magical gnomes to manage upkeep. While I’m not going to argue the total AWESOMENESS of home gnomes, I’m not fazed by home improvements. What can I say, I likes me some power tools.
Of the four places we’ve lived as a married couple, two were apartments and two were brand new builds. Yes, fifteen years into wedded bliss, and we’re just now buying a pre-existing home. It’s been a learning experience. For example, a home inspection may indicate some rather…hm, how to say…SWEETBABYJESUSWITHANAILGUN issues that just don’t crop up on a new build walkthrough. There are a few more OHMYFREAKINGGODHOWDIDTHEPREVIOUSOWNERSOVERLOOKTHIS deferred maintenance situations. And, of course, you can’t forget the heart-stopping OHMYGODWHATTHEHELLHAVEWEDONE reaction to a three page home inspection summary.
I believe I will have plenty of opportunity to flex some small DIY muscles in the next few years.
My poor husband.
Perhaps I should find him a home gnome for our anniversary.