Today is all about a story.
My favorite kind of tale.
The one where you think you know where the plot line is going and you have an idea of the ending and suddenly in the middle there’s a twist that you didn’t imagine and the ending kind of gets re-written and it ends up even better than you thought.
Kind of like a Christmas miracle and a Hallmark movie all rolled into one.
Life is funny like that.
You think you know the script.
You think you know the ending.
And right before they roll the credits?
Something amazing shows up.
This is the home of my childhood.
This is where I grew up.
I have walked up these brick steps more times than I can even count.
This is what the house looked like the day we bought it back from the family that my mother had sold it to after my father passed away. You can read all about moving and my wedding dress and Dear Abby and a mirror here.
This is the house where my future husband who wasn’t even my boyfriend yet picked me up for our first date.
This is the house where he first kissed me goodnight.
This is the house where I brought my children home from the hospital.
This is the house where my children stamped their tiny hand prints in the driveway when my mother and father had a new driveway poured.
This is the house where we all gathered to celebrate my father’s life and legacy after he passed away.
This is the house where I’ve laughed and cried and loved and giggled and shared more joy than a person should be allowed in a lifetime.
This is my home.
There was a time when I thought this home was lost forever. I thought I’d never walk the halls again. I thought I’d never celebrate another Christmas or Thanksgiving or birthday or family breakfast here.
Until one day we moved back home to Texas and I randomly called up the new family that owned the house and asked them if they would sell it back to us. I called them on a whim. I had no idea what they’d say. I had no idea if they’d even answer the phone.
The house wasn’t even on the market.
The family didn’t really know me and as far as I knew they weren’t planning on selling it.
But I stepped out on faith and dialed the phone.
When the current owner answered, I explained who I was and told her my story and told her we might be moving back and that I had been in a relationship with that house since add-a-bead necklaces were a thing. Would she? Could she? Might she be interested in selling it?
And to my surprise.
To my joy.
To my almost fainting on the phone at that moment….
….she said yes.
It’s been almost six years since we moved back into the house and there have been dozens of changes–new paint colors, new kitchen, new bathrooms, new laundry room, new air conditioners, new hot water heater, new electrical and plumbing and a new roof.
But one thing hasn’t changed.
The heart and soul of this house beats so strongly throughout our family.
I thought it deserved its own chapter. This is the part of the story where you think you know where the plot line is going, but there’s a twist.
And the twist is so much more amazing than even I could have ever even imagined.
Remember this village?
Remember how I discovered the tiny houses created by a local artist who makes these incredible creations from bits and scraps and pieces that someone else might have overlooked?
Each house is full of personality.
Each house is unique and special and amazing and one-of-a-kind and I brought them home and set them up in the back entryway on my husband’s grandmother’s vintage dresser and together those houses make up this amazing vintage village.
THE VILLAGE HAS A NEW HOUSE.
It fits right in. Just go to the house with the house with the thatched roof and turn right.
The Woods have officially moved in to town.
It’s my very own version of a Hallmark movie.
The artist that made these houses read my post and contacted me and we started talking and I asked her if there was any way she could make a house that looked like my house.
The house I love.
The house I grew up in.
The house I came back to.
She said she could and I sent her pictures and last week she brought this amazing, incredible, unique, one-of-a-kind house to my doorstep.
I still can’t believe it.
I wish I could type the full-circle moment I felt when I held that house in my hand. I wish I could type my joy. I wish could type the mix of emotions tiptoeing across my heart.
But I can’t.
So I’ll say it the only way I know how.
The village is complete.
My house is finally home. 🙂
PS I’ve gotten so many emails from all of you asking for the artist’s information. She gave me permission to give out her information to any one who is interested and she does ship. I don’t want to put it on here out of respect for her—but you can always email me at email@example.com and I’ll send it to you.