Home, sweet home

From time to time I'll stop whatever it is I'm doing, and become really still and mindful of where I am - in my OWN home, with my name alone on the deed, and I become giddy. My mother said that my paternal grandmother often used to boast that she saved pennies to buy her home. That’s simply amazing and certainly something to be proud of. While I didn’t literally save pennies, I did work hard and shovel a LOT of shit in order to purchase mines, which makes my accomplishment just as noteworthy to me, and makes me just as proud as I imagine she was. I had no help, no cosigner, no spouse to help shoulder the financial strain, no trust fund, no help from family. It was all me, baby! In my opinion, to put in time and sweat and hard work, to sacrifice and really fight for something, grit, tooth and nail, makes receiving it much more rewarding. So, when I stop whatever I’m doing to just look around my house and smile at my accomplishment and reminisce on how far I’ve come, what I sacrificed to get here, I don’t care who’s mad, who doesn't like my house, or who thinks I should be more modest. I’m shouting to the rafters every chance I get because, after the journey I endured, I damn sure deserve to. Great things usually start with a dream and a ton of hope, and I have spent many days and nights fantasizing about my dream house, what it would look like, where it would be, how I would decorate it, how I would live in it, who would live in it with me, etc. Today I am living that dream and ready to realize others. :)