It's cold outside and I've just finished hauling in the rest of the firewood we had stacked in the barn. Hubster lit the main wood stove this morning and I need to get off my tookus and light the other one so the kids don't turn into popsicles.
I don't think I thank Hubster enough for getting that fire lit each winter morning. It's always so nice to come downstairs and have that orange glow to great me. I pour a cup of coffee that he made before heading off and I sit there, warming my hands, feeling safe and good.
He found this house for us. A coup de foudre, as they say in French. Standing in front of the big green gates, looking at it's beautiful symmetry and enormous windows, he was in love. It's funny how this place has changed us both, made both of us so happy to be in one place. So happy and content that we joke about spreading our ashes in the garden, next to the forever unfinished fence.
There is such a determination in Hubster about getting this place to be exactly as he would like it. Always ideas of how we can improve or change or make nicer the rooms, the space, or the outlook. This place is home and I don't think he, or I, have ever felt so connected to somewhere like we do here. We aren't from here, but we belong here. I know that.
Our life in this rural world has mellowed us both. Taught us a lot about patience, neighbours, and how to keep the peace. It's also showed us that it doesn't matter how much money you make, you'll never have enough and what's really important is what you do on those days you don't go to the office.
We have been blessed with a beautiful place, a beautiful life, a beautiful family.
I'm going to get that other stove lit now. Make the lounge nice and warm so that when Hubster gets home tonight, he can sit in that room he made lovely and be at ease. I'm glad he loved this house. Just a shame I don't think I'll ever love it as much as I love him.
Happy day after your birthday, sweetie.