This past weekend the husband and I looked at three houses. Yes, that’s right. Houses. I love houses, design, decor, the whole shebang, and we are ready for a new place. (Look at my House Love Pinterest board. It’s intense. And wow, looking at it now I notice that I seem to have a thing for hardwood floors and all-white everything.)
Out of the three houses I only liked one. Guess which one. The worst one. The one that is the most expensive and yet needs to be gutted. In a shocking display of practicality, I believe we will sit back and let that glorious house be someone else’s problem.
The husband and I are two of the pickiest, cheapest people on the planet. It is going to take forever for us to find a place. I’ll be 40 and still living with my parents.
The dog will be okay with that. They have a big backyard and a frisbee.
Scout has healed well from her jaw surgery. Those missing teeth in the front make it a real bitch to pick things up from the ground, but she manages.
So. That is what we are up to over here. Playing with the dog. Looking at houses. I’m starting to miss my sewing machine, and that’s a good enough reason to buy a house, right? So that I can have a sewing space again?
Let’s just ignore that I’m terrible at sewing, shall we? Thank you.
See you later!