With the impending purchase of a new-to-us house I’ve been doing a lot of thinking (and pinning) about vision and purpose. I desire authenticity. I want to be truly genuine to the identity of the house and that of our family.
While I do adore the newness, cleanliness, “level-and-plumb-ness” of a newly constructed house, I have this deep desire for the authentic, hard-working, and worn charm of a century home. The kind where you make due with the inherited design choices of someone long ago, live with imperfections, and celebrate history. Where you have to get up and move the kitchen table out of the way of the cellar door when you hear grandpa coming in from the barn and his heavy footfall on the steps. The kind of house where you need ingenuity, creativity, and adaptability to make it lovely and functional. The place where “then” collides with “now” and mix together to make our own unique “someday.”
I promised myself that if I ever got the chance to own a farmhouse I’d live in it before I made any changes. I’ve only been in this house twice and I’m a bit nervous. I can’t wait to get to know it and us in it. With all of it’s imperfections and awkwardness and beauty, we should make a great pair.