Welcome to my Little Red House. I wish I could say that it's an 1830 eyebrow colonial, or a 1920 craftsman bungalow, but it's not. It's an ordinary cape cod, built by my father in 1959. I've lived here pretty much all my life; first with my parents, then with my own family. Our children have grown up in this house. In many ways, I am rooted here.
This is what you see when you first open the front door.It would be nice to have a great big foyer, but this is one of those houses where you walk right into the living room. I like to call this room the library, because it has bookcases, and it's great to sit here and read in the morning sun. My family thinks this is too precious for words. They just don't get the whole "I'd love to live in an English country house" thing. It doesn't always look this nice, In fact, if you look to the left, this is what you'll see.
Yep, welcome to my life.
In the coming days, I hope to share with you all the things I do when I really should be cleaning -- things like decorating,
setting the table,
and hitting the thrift stores. Oh, and don't forget cooking and driving my daughter from soccer practice. OK, I won't subject you to the whole soccer thing -- the car gets a little too smelly. But I promise some other fun trips around the neighborhood.
(OK, here's where I beg you to leave a comment, so I'll know that someone besides my family is reading this. Wait, maybe even my family is not reading this. If you are reading this, I thank you from the bottom of my heart!)