Back in April, my person and I bought a house! It is a 97 year-old bungalow beauty in a gem of a neighborhood and I can't believe I haven't written about it yet. Well, I can. We have been busy since we moved in and just now, there is a sweet settling into summer that gives me time to water flowers, read many books, and think of words.
Prior to buying this house, I believe I looked inside every single house posted on Zillow in the greater Chicagoland area. This proved to be both daunting and depressing; we would never be able to afford a house, we could only afford a tiny house that needed too much work, we would have to live in our current apartment until we died. Real estate can be real defeating. Until one day, this house popped up. And I loved it. And I sent it to my person who also loved it and we got a realtor and were inside it to look at it the next day. My person said he took one look at my face as we walked through it and knew it was over; we would have to get this house. I think I was pretty stoic throughout the tour but then again, I have never been known for my poker face. I do think I held off cooing until I saw the built-in closet with the laundry chute. THE LAUNDRY CHUTE!! I was immediately transported to the house of my childhood with a laundry chute. That chute had a hard angle and towels were forever getting stuck in it. We were lazy, yet ingenious, and would take whatever was close by and launch it down the chute to dislodge the stuck towels: bottles of shampoo, conditioner, heavy things to ensure success and concussion to anyone who happened to be at the other end of the chute at the time. The house was amazing, but that laundry chute sold me.
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| What really sold me. |
I love this house. I love that the stairs creak and that the bedroom floor sort of slopes from one side to the next. The ceilings also slope and while dangerous to my tall person, I fit under them easily. I love that there is a sunroom and in that sunroom, all of my plants grow and thrive because there is also a door that keeps all animals out. I love that in the fifties, someone redid the downstairs bathroom in an explosion of aqua and peach. I also really love that the people who lived here before us loved this house and replaced the old windows, modernized the upstairs bathroom, and redid boring things like fuses and pipes. I love the windows on every single side of this house. I love the light and sounds of birds that pour in. After apartment living with just one window, this abundant light fills me with abundant joy.
I love the basement! How have I lived this long without a basement? An entire area to house the washer and dryer, Costco excess, and the litter box. It is unfinished and that is fine. We can still see the pipe where oil was delivered and the room that coal was shoveled into back when coal and oil were needed for heating. And it doesn't feel scary or root-cellar-like or haunted. Just a little damp and roomy. Oh! And attics! We have three attic entrances and one little weird door in my person's small person's room. I am determined some sort of treasure awaits in the larger attic. We also have a very old garage that we are afraid to park in, but I still like it because someone took the time to build a cabinet in it. My person says he hates the smell in it. I will admit it smells a bit like dust and decay while I tell you what I tell him: it smells like history.
The yard is small and green and mostly weeds. I love the weeds! Dandelions, violets, and recently discovered, wild strawberries! I don't think I could grow strawberries on my own and there they are, just wild and popping up all over. In the back, we have tall weeds that flower and I am learning the names of: Dame Rockets, Creeping Bell Something, Daisy Flea Bane. Lots of purple flowers on tall stalks and I refer to this area as our butterfly garden. I am a real optimist in this house!
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| Butterfly Garden |
The hardships of homeownership have already popped up and we had to replace the AC and furnace. We also had a HUGE limb fall from the tree out front. We somehow missed the fact that the dishwasher is super tiny and neither one of us would have picked out the blue countertops. And the upstairs gets really, really warm. Even with the new AC. So, it's not perfect, this house. It will bend and break and require us to fix and mend and spend. But it is perfect because it is ours. Our house that we love to be in. Our house that is finally enough room for all of the animals we own. Our house, where William came to live with us too. Where in the back hall for the first time, he smiled and said "Oh, it reminds me of Grammie's house". Our house, where we have a giant room in the front that needs furniture. Our house, with the side porch that definitely needs some paint and might sway a bit when you walk over it. Our house, where in the front yard, we feed four naughty squirrels, an adorable chipmunk, and all the boring birds of IL.
We noticed on our many walks of the neighborhood that there are so many fairy houses under the trees. I get it now because two months in, I realize this place is enchanted. That huge branch that came crashing down missed my car by inches. This is a place where neighbors come running out to meet you. A place where children run back and forth to play. A place you can hear church bells ring each hour. A place, that after moving and moving and moving, is ours. And this house that is filled with windows and light is also filled with laughter and love. Enchanted.
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| Wild, tiny, baby strawberries? Enchantment. |
