Technically I am not a first home owner. The first home I owned was the land and self house build project I left behind in Scotland. Yes I did sleep one night in the house in Scotland, after a roof warming party, but never had the opportunity to call anything but the dodgy cold caravan on the building site as my home. So the Scottish house is now finished with my ex and his new wife all cosy and happy within.
Meantime my new husband and I bought a beautiful old house in the most amazing location over two years ago. We have furnished our home and made all necessary changes to make it safe and habitable (i.e. filled in the baby drowning pond and cut down the kid killing Oleander). Slowly our garden is developing and the back yard is a kids’ play heaven. Today however I feel I have made the biggest step signifying that I am a home owner. I painted a wall.
Okay so the wall has been painted with coloured blackboard paint (Jungle Frog Green) for the kids but I still feel very grownup and proud of myself. The sense of permanency is very satisfying. There is of course a blind faith that my husband and I can maintain the mortgage to keep our house. From now on, whenever I pay the mortgage before the due date each month, my sigh of relief will be exhaled as I turn to look at our new green wall….and whatever chalk creation our children have drawn on it at the time.
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