Sunday, June 10, 2012
Today we are one year old. And seventy-three. Let me explain.
Last year at this time, I was sitting in a bank board room signing papers for an hour, while my real estate agent Jean and my loan officer Sarah smiled on. They were really rooting for me, knew how much this meant to me, and it was with genuine congratulations when they handed me the keys to my new life, my new home.
So happy first anniversary of home ownership to me. It has been a year of joy, relief, dirt, paint cans, ibuprofen, and the beautiful support of family and friends. I'm a lucky (and tired) woman indeed.
But the house that means so much to me is 73 years old. Since I have no idea exactly when the first lucky owners of this sweet Cape Cod turned the key in the brand new lock, I've decided that I should also mark this home's birthday every year on this day too. It seems like the the thing to do. Happy June 10th to me, and to my house. Happy Birthday Anniversary.
Between all the project work that's been going on around here, the end of an old job and the start of another, the end of the school year, and the usual comings and goings of the family, I didn't muster efforts in time for a party. But I think this calls for one, with cupcakes and streamers and cool drinks on patios. I'm going to plan for just such an event in honor of the 2/74 Birthday Anniversary next year.
And you're all invited, I promise. I'll have a cupcake just for you!