Tag Archives: living alone

House Love


I have lived in my home for six and a half years, and I love it more everyday.  Oh, I love to spend time with my family in Wisconsin, to travel abroad, to make weekend visits to the Lake and to spend time with other friends scattered nearby.  But I really love being home.

I found my house when I didn’t even know I was looking for it.  My nephew, who was then eleven and is now about to begin his freshman year at UNC-Chapel Hill, and I were taking a walk about their neighborhood.  I suggested we walk around to the street behind his home.  We took the long way, and this is what we saw:

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It was a God moment.  I stopped.  My nephew, rule follower that he is, stood in the driveway.  I, on the other hand, looked in every window that I could reach.  Then I looked again.  We, it took the two of us because I am terrible with numbers, memorized the phone number on the For Sale sign.  We went back to my brother’s house, where I phoned and made an appointment to see the house the very next day.  I went back eight more times until I finally made an offer.

In 2011, things were complicated in the Real Estate market.  Banks weren’t giving mortgage loans readily, and people weren’t buying homes like they had been during the “bubble.”  My house had been empty for a year.  The owner had done some updating, decorating as painting is called, and he was getting eager, or more like anxious.  It is a small house with only two bedrooms and one bath, so it was waiting for the one person who would fall in love with it.  I was approved for a mortgage; my offer was accepted after some back-and-forth, and hoo-boy!  The pieces of my puzzle were falling into place, and God was at my side.

I moved in the day after Easter, and for the first week, I sat in the dark during the evenings.  I didn’t have blinds, shades, or curtains, and I was living alone for the very first time in my entire 62 years of life.  Let that sink in, will you?

Of course, things gradually changed.  I threw myself into making my little house my home.   Every year, since, I have done something to improve my home…a flagstone path in front, a new deck on the back, a garbage disposal installed, new blinds, guttering updates, new storm doors, and a fresh new color on all the exterior doors.  I’ve cozied up the inside, too.  All those wonderful trips with Mom and my sisters and friends to thrift shops and auctions have helped me find items with which to decorate.


My house love has deepened more and more.

Sometimes I call my place ‘The Hokey Pokey Clinic,’ where I turned myself around, or ‘The Hive,’ where I learned ‘to BE.’

Mostly, I call it HOME.








Grilled Cheese and Tomato Soup…


That is just about my all time favorite comfort food. Oh, and Mashed Potatoes.

Anyway, Autumn dropped by with a bang this week, and though one day it was sunny and perfect, the next it was very cool and rainy. We need the rain. I mowed dust on Monday.

With the arrival of Autumn, I had the guilty pleasure of fixing myself a beautiful lunch of a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. I am not sure when this classic combination became my go-to for self-soothing, but the other day, when I first bit down into the crisp warm bread and oozy American “cheese food,” I was happy. Not that I wasn’t before. I was just happier.

I am not particularly a foodie. I don’t remember food; I remember the people and places. Pizza night at my brother’s every Tuesday night is not about the pizza at all. It is about gathering around their large table with the kids, and joining in the conversation and laughter. I barely cooked for the Australians when they were here, and breakfast everyday for the boys was toast. Seriously.

When I first began living alone, I barely ate at all, and that didn’t work very well for me. Then I decided I was going to love myself enough to cook for myself. Naturally, the pendulum swung too far, and I was eating all the wrong things. Now, I am back on track, and doing a better job of feeding myself in a more balanced way.

The “cheese food” was left over from the way-past. That stuff never spoils. It is a bit concerning. The bread was the last remnants of those toast breakfasts served to my honored guests. The soup was Trader Joe’s Organic Tomato and Roasted Red Pepper. Score.

I am glad for the change in weather. It is my very most favorite time of the year. I picked up colorful maple leaves off the ground to send to my Arizona little ones, and it will stop raining soon, and warm up a little again. I hope just tomato soup will do it for me until then.