I woke up this morning excited for my morning walk. Coalie and I walked for about 30 minutes through Georgetown. We walked by a couple of the homes for sale so I could preview them from the outside. The latest one is a yellow Victorian house with an attached greenhouse. It looks really charming. It had snowed during the night and was not very cold. When we got back to the house, I made pancakes (took me two tries with the altitude) for the kids and then we started cleaning. We have our first guests coming to stay in Georgetown next weekend.
On the way out of town, we went back to look at the cuckoo clocks. Last year we traveled for our anniversary and this year we decided to buy a cuckoo clock. I thought it might look good in the nook by the stairway. As soon as we got home, we hung it and I was right. It's the perfect spot. Greg said, "our house is finally complete." I felt the same way. Is that really all it takes to feel like I'm home?
I started thinking about being at Nana's again and how it was probably the only place I really felt safe when I was growing up . The only time it was scary was the night my parents' divorce was final. My dad got custody of us and took us to Nana's house for the night. I woke up to police lights flashing on the ceiling of the kids bedroom and my mom screaming at someone. I heard the police try to reason with her to leave. They didn't know what they were up against. She always looked so sweet and pretty, but was strong and tricky. I found out later, that it took several policemen to catch her and they were all scratched from the bushes they ran through. So, besides that night, I did feel safe there. And the cuckoo clock reminds me of that.
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