Manor House Perfection

Every once in a while I come across a home, in person or in a photograph, that absolutely speaks to me.  I LOVE this house. 

"Manor House"

Photo credit: Simon Howden / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I envision stepping into a foyer simply but elegantly decorated, a blooming Amaryllis on an antique entry table. A warm fire crackles in the parlor (because this house has a parlor). The smell of bread baking wafts through every hall. From the inside looking out, the cold, wet, harsh, snowy exterior quickly becomes simply a festive and homey backdrop to the warm, joyful, inviting interior.

A family lives here.

The snow will eventually melt and reveal a wide, green lawn for games of tag and kick the can and football. Borders of flowers will bloom, carefully and loving selected and tended: tulips and daffodils in the spring, giving way to cosmos and daisies for the summer heat, that soon make room for delphiniums and mums to linger into fall.  The maple and alder leaves will put on a fiery show, and a grand holiday meal will be meticulously prepared come November.  A passerby will hear laughter and shouts as the clan gathers around to watch the Cowboys and Lions. Snow will again fall. Wreaths and garlands and trees will be placed.  Decorations will be dragged from the dormered attic, and children and parents will giggle at forgotten treasures of years past now again found in dusty boxes.

Sounds perfect, right?

We can't all have this sort of perfection.  I'd venture to say that no one really has this sort of perfection.  Our "manor" might be anything from a 4000+ square foot McMansion, a modest ranch house, or a cramped apartment.  The family might not always be able to gather for the football and the feast.  There might not be enough money for the grand meals, the antiques and decor, or even the simple flowers bulbs out front.

But no matter the circumstance or the setting, time will pass and memories will be made, good or bad. So today I commit to do one thing each day to make my humble home a Manor House.

What are your favorite tips to give your house a Manor House feeling, especially when funds (or motivation or energy) are low?

150,000 Miles!

The odometer on my van rolled past 150,000 miles yesterday. I snapped a pic with my cheap-o phone and texted it to Mr. Four Walls, but I'm having technical difficulties getting it to load to the blog, so you'll just have to take my word for it.

But, wow! How many other people do you know driving an old, 90's mini-van with 150,000 miles on it?

It's funny. 

There was a time in my life, not too many years ago, when I would have told you there would be no way I would ever be driving a vehicle with that sort of mileage.  I would have said that the headache and cost of maintenance on something that old and used wouldn't be worth it.  That there's no way a vehicle like that would be safe enough for my family. That having a regular, predictable car payment is so much better than being nickled and dimed for ongoing maintenance on a beater.

That was then, this is now.

Now I say that I would have said all of those things out of pride. I would have said all those things because I didn't want people to see my family rolling through town in something that makes odd sounds at odd times, has one lock outside that won't work at all, and the others that only sometimes let us in on the first try.  I would have said all those things because I thought it was normal and perfectly okay to live in debt, to never really own all the things we call "ours."

That was then, this is now. 

Since "Goldie," as we affectionately call her, joined the family in November of 2010- already with around 140,000 miles - we have lived car payment free.  We have diligently and deliberately maintained her, mostly ourselves, and spent WAY less than we would have on car payments and maintenance on a younger, hipper vehicle. And we've gotten over ourselves. 

I still have pride, mind you. Now I'm proud of my old "girl" for being so steady for the family before us and now for ours.  I'm proud of myself for not caring how people look at me when I try and try and try to unlock my driver's side door and then have to occasionally resort to crawling in through the back. I'm proud of Mr. Four Walls and me, how we've weathered this long road of financial uncertainty, and are coming through it stronger and more committed to making the journey ahead together, whatever it should hold. 

Goldie won't live forever.  I know we'd be kidding ourselves if we thought she'd be truckin' (vannin'?) along in another 150,000 (but stranger things have happened....).  I'll be tickled pink if she's still going as we ring in the New Year next year.  For now, though, I'll simply take her 150,000 milestone as a great reminder to be thankful for what we have, while we have it.

Thanks, Goldie!