Tonight I got a new house.
I've lived here for 19 months, but it finally feels like mine. Isn't that stupid? All we did was switch a light fixture. But it was one of those little detail things that just makes this place feel like mine.
I remember when we bought our first house. It was a good house, but I just wasn't in love with it. I hated the wallpaper, and the whiteness. White carpet and white walls with white trim. One weekend, before I had a baby and two dogs, I stayed up all night painting and pulling up carpet while Canon was on a hunting trip. And on the day we replaced the Wonder Years-era light fixture that hung over the kitchen table, it turned into my house. It finally felt like home.
And now, so does this place. I don't know exactly what it is about the light fixtures, but it's amazing how much they can change the way I see a place. And apparently, the way I feel about it, too.