We Bought a Home

More like we bought a condo, but this little 780 square foot beauty is definitely our home.

We have a yellow vinyl pattern for our kitchen floor, and flower tiles surrounding our wood burning fireplace - one that I'll use like a daily routine once fall rolls back around. Not to mention that our chandelier came straight out of the 1990's, and that mud room? Wallpaper. Everywhere. There's something about it, though. Something that makes it so lovely because of how quirky it all is. 

Of all the places that Dylan and I have lived together, apartment living has definitely been my favorite. Sure, there are plenty of downsides if you look hard enough, but there's a sense of permanency that comes with living in a small space that I never really felt in the houses we lived in. There was always the opportunity to buy more stuff to fill the empty rooms, or to switch rooms because we had a second living area, or a third bedroom or what have you. All in due time. There's been talk of little ones (mostly by my mom, but we're starting to join that conversation) after we get married and of course, we'll need to upsize. We knew that was in our near future when we chose to buy small. But for the time being, all we have to worry about is one bedroom and one bathroom and one living space. We're so very excited to decorate these white walls with the memories we've made so far. 

And so, that's how it goes. You meet someone, you fall in love, you buy a condo and you start painting walls.

For us, anyway. 



Copper Mountain, January 10th - January 11th. 

Life {n}: The existence of an individual human being. 

This is where I get to live my life... then add in the love of a handsome man and time spent with friends and I'm really not sure if it gets any better than this. 

an unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

Reposted and edited from September 2012:  

I used to stare at that giant outside of my window for hours. 

I'd climb to the top of my roof and strategically sit at the highest point, measuring how much taller the top of that tree was even though I was basically on the top of the world. And then I'd daydream about flying right off that roof; about making a fold up airplane to fit in my back pocket; about falling in love; about building tree houses; about changing the world. Those childhood dreams of mine fueled the world around me - they were everything to me. They were the life before me and the life I would grow into. I would fly one day. I would fall in love with the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen. I would change the world. It would happen because I wanted it to happen. 

Then I'd find myself in the fort I had spent the morning building, hiding not-so-inconspicuously from the world around me, dreaming about the house I'd one day build. And then I'd probably put the kitchen here... windows here, here, and most definitely there... And soon after that I was bundled from head to toe, reading in a lopsided igloo in the backyard, intermittently pretending I was stranded and must. find. food. between the hot coco breaks.

I was a child looking to the future, pretending that I was in situations bigger than myself, then crawling into my warm bed for a sound night sleep because I really didn't have a care in the world. It was all just pretend... it was all eons into the future.

And now I find myself buying curtains for a house that's not yet mine, still planning out where I'd put the kitchen for the house I'll one day build. I find myself looking at the boy I used to dream about on top of that roof, now soon becoming his wife. I find myself lying awake at night thinking about how to turn the world upside down and skipping out on a good night sleep because it's not just pretend anymore - I mean really, I'm more than halfway to my ten year reunion by now.

But then I fall fast asleep because it's all still eons away; I'm just that much closer to it all.