It's a year since we moved into this house. (Staffan says it's a year and a day, but I am not that particular). Almost every day we say to each other how lucky we are to have found it. It just feels right.
A lot has happened during this year, apart from the house, but that's another story. I am just looking back at the year in the house. We have redecorated the kitchen and are doing the large bathroom soon. The pink walls in the dining room, that I thought would be the first thing I'd paint, are still pink, but we now call it peach and think it's quite nice. We haven't put up our lamps, and the paintings I put up temporarily are still where I put them. I haven't changed the curtains although I must soon because in some rooms they are literally falling apart. All the furniture is exactly where we placed in from start.
What has changed most is the garden. When I first saw the garden and fell in love with it I thougt it was perfect. I should have remembered that nobody is perfect, and a garden least of all. I am still discovering things in the garden. The other day, I found a rusted barbecue grill inside a shrub. It fell into crumbs when I tried to move it. I am still fighting brambles and ivy, but I know what is weeds and what is flowers. This morning we saw a woodpecker. We are so lucky to have found this house.