Our bedroom. The table at the end of the bed is the first piece of furniture my grandparents bought when they got married in 1928. (The newspapers under the table are clips I'm getting together to apply to a master's program in writing at UALR.)
Our bathroom. I love our bathroom because it's yellow. After my string of miscarriages in 2003, a friend helped me paint our bathroom in Baytown bright yellow. It's such a bright color that helped lift me out of my sadness that year. When we first looked at this house and I saw the yellow bathroom, it pretty much sealed the deal for me.
Bathtub in said yellow bathroom. Want to know how many episodes of Gilmore Girls I've watched in this tub? Too many to count.
If there's one thing I'm not crazy about in the house, it's the color on our bedroom wall. It's a little dark for my optimistic nature. We might change it someday, but I do kind of like the way our old furniture looks against it. This is my grandmother's old dresser.
My other grandmother's old rocking chair.
Where I work, blog and Facebook. On the top shelf is my college diploma on the left, the award I won from the Texas Associated Press on the right, and my dad's old Brownie Hawkeye camera in the middle. (I guess you never notice all the fingerprints on your laptop screen until you take a picture of it.)
So that's part of our house. It isn't perfect. It's almost too little, and I'm sure it will feel more so as the girls get older. It has popcorn ceilings and probably builder-grade everything. And we don't care one bit. We feel so blessed to have a house, jobs and everything we need to take care of our girls. I really can't imagine living anywhere else.
One more thing: I love the flowerbeds. Even though my tulips were foolish enough to pop out of the ground right before our snow/ice days. We'll see what happens in a few weeks. I'm still holding out hope.