We are officially looking for a house in TX. So far nothing has knocked our socks off and the TWO that we did like (out of about 30) already have contracts on them. Martin is working with a realtor and I am sending her "requirements" that I would like in our next house. Our last house was a 1931 bungalow style home with original floors, plaster walls & ceilings, a huge basement, one tiny bathroom and two tiny bedrooms. We renovated the kitchen with stainless appliances, marble counter tops and more cabinets than the lil' kitchen every dreamed of having. We also converted the attic space into a master suite. Sadly, we never used the master bedroom space. My husband accepted a job in FL so we scurried to finish the house, put it on the market, and moved out. It was very unsatisfying, but it sold quickly and we moved on.
This house is on the other end of the spectrum. Larger, newer, stucco- very Florida. We moved in, painted a couple rooms and that has been about it. While trying to decide what I want in the next house I am realizing what I am attached to in this house. One of the things is the kitchen pantry. I have never had a walk-in pantry and I love it. There are shelves for food, small appliances, cookbooks, baskets to hold my linens, hooks to hold my aprons, and it once served as our hurricane haven. This story is one of my husband's favorites: our girls were born August 9, 2oo4 - hurricane season. I was released from the hospital on the 11th. We came home that Wednesday with the intent of nesting for awhile. Friday, August 13th (coincidence?) hurricane Charlie struck Central FL with a vengeance. The night of the storm we holed up in the pantry since it was the safest place to be. My husband put large pillows on the floor and I tucked myself in the very back with our tiny babies and tried to contain my nervousness. I can remember placing one baby in my lap and nursing the other. I was hot and sweaty since we had already lost power and it was Florida in August. Meanwhile my husband would duck out to peek at the winds and videotape the happenings, then sit back in the pantry for a while. I can't remember how many hours we were in there, but I just remember thinking how much I would rather still be in the hospital. I am sure our girls will hear this story many times. All of our first memories of parenting and all of their firsts have happened in this happy house. Once again, the time to move on is nearing.