It was a couple years ago that we started to dream about owning a home. Ever was growing, starting to crawl, and the ache to do projects was getting too big to bear. We had painted and repainted, arranged and rearrange (and done it again) in our little sweet rental, but we had hit the edge of the walls. We began to dream of having a place where we could paint, knock down, build new, and buy forever pieces, knowing it could be forever. We started to let go of our comfort in being forever renters, and wade into the idea of risking everything to be home owners.
We started praying. We started saving. We started list making. And, probably biggest of all, we started dreaming.
One night, when Ever was about 7mo old, we were sitting on our little couch talking about the future and I said “when we are home owners. Lets get a little home tattoo.” it was flippant, small, and stuck.
We kind of backed off the whole home buying planning because the more we looked into it the less it seemed like it could ever be a reality (homes in our county are REALLY expensive compared to our wage). We let it go as a ‘maybe in ten years’ kinda idea.
But then the Little Lettered Dream Home popped up. And in a whirl wind of love, community, prayer, and a little magic. We ended up in our perfect, wonky, 102 year old dream home. And through that whole process, the ‘little home’ tattoos crossed out minds again and again.
Something about the simplicity. The permanence. And the shared experience just spoke too closely to the whole process.
And today was no different. We stopped into the parlor, got fit in right away, and walked out giddy and grinning.
I can’t believe, any of this, is real life.