Our House

It is official.

I clicked my pen, wrote my check, tore of the payment stub and sent our first payment to our mortgage company. 

We are homeowners.

We purchased, a little old "farm house" in the northside neighborhood of Missoula.  

The front part of the house was built in 1900 (?) , and predates indoor plumbing.  The kitchen addition was added around 1913 (?) (based on a milk delivery slip the previous owner found in the wall during his remodel), and the existing plumbing is an obvious after thought.

I nabbed this picture from the county assessor who came by a few days ago. It has faded and yellowed.  To my disappointment, she had no idea when it was taken. "As a mater of fact", she said, "you can have this picture.  I'm just going to throw it away." 

The house looks almost identical today.

The bathroom window is a different shape, a dormer was added in one of the upstairs bedroom, the garage and that second building behind it is no longer standing. A garden and a new shop are in its place.  A big maple tree that shades our yard is not even visible. 

This is the first time we saw the house.  Ivory is knocking on the door.  

As soon as it was possible we set about making this place our home.  Tearing up the grass and replacing it with a strawberry patch, a bean tepee (kid hide out), rows of edibles, flowers.....

There were nice surprises along the way: like the flesh colored, curled rhubarb leaves that pushed up through the soil, the tiger lilies and the laden currant bushes.

We know that we have an endless list of improvements and fixes ahead of us. (Yes, we did have the house inspected, had contractors and real estate agents look at it.) We have carpets to tear out, walls to spackle, dormers to add, a multitude of dreams and realities to reconcile. But for now, we are starting small.  

I let Ivory paint the front door.

A watering can. 

Roots. 

Flowers. Mountains. Meadows with purple cows and horses.  A House.  A Tree. 

Welcome. 

Welcome to our house, which will hopefully be filled with it's share of smiles, (and where the babies most likely don't have pants on).   

Our house, which is close enough, that even after a hard day of work, we can all hop in the car for a few minutes to dip in the river before dinner.

 

Our house, that hopefully with a ridiculous amount of work and faith and perseverance, will become our little urban homestead.