Behind Door #3

It’s been five days, and I still wake up every morning feeling like I am in a dream Airbnb (ignoring all of the boxes, of course).  We’ve spent our first few days digging ourselves out of a mountain of boxes, moving furniture around, and most importantly, drinking coffee (and sometimes wine) on the front stoop while we watch the neighborhood go by in slow motion.  It’s peaceful.  It’s quiet.  And it is everything.

I grew up watching my dad close up and clean up our house and yard every night.  He would walk the perimeter, make sure toys/life jackets/lawn tools were all put away.  He took time and care with making sure everything was in order.  I could see it was a lot of work and I always thought it looked exhausting.  Now here I am, a grown-up (can that be true??) and my favorite time of day is when I get to slip on my rubber boots, walk the property, close up the barn, roll up the hose, carry in the sprinklers, bring in the tee-pee (fact), and make sure all is well.  Responsibility can be the most freeing feeling – I had no idea.

I have gotten texts, comments, and emails about the inside of the house.  It is perfection and I promise I will post pictures once the ratio of box to room is dramatically decreased – first impressions are everything.  In the meantime, I wanted to share a few of the surprises that were left from the family who owned the property before us.  If anyone is selling a house in the near future, THIS is how you do it:


S’mores supplies left in the pantry drawer.


A chiminea on the back deck to make those s’mores (and to sit quietly and watch the bats swoop at dusk).


Minnesota wine left hiding in a kitchen cabinet (but photographed in our basement-turned-wine-cellar.


A basketball hoop to up our game.  Side note:  One of the reasons I fell in love with this house is because the listing photos included an incredible shot of the basketball hoop inside the barn.  Come fall, that’s where you will find us.  It should also be noted that I did indeed move my trash and recycling bins out of this shot, in true blogger fashion.  Real life:  we have garbage and recycling bins.


And what’s a good old-fashioned childhood without fireworks?  Pop-its, also left hiding in a kitchen cabinet.  I am sure the neighbors love us even more after Felix discovered these in the morning.

Off I go to mow the yard.  Can that be done with prosecco in hand?  Let’s find out.



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