|17 years. Still never finished the paint job|
I bought a big house because I looked at my friends buying "starter" homes and thought, I never want to do this again. I'm not buying a small house so that I can buy a big house later. So I went big from the beginning, big enough that my oldest friend could rent an entire apartment on my third floor.
In 2005, I met Mario, through a neighbor. I would have never met either of them if I hadn't bought the house. He and I got together in 2007, and married in 2011. Slowly but surely, he moved all his stuff into this house, and it got absorbed with no loss of space. During this time, I also sewed a lot, bought even more fabric, started a business, bought more fabric for that, and just . . . bought more fabric.
There's also a really good thrift store down the street, and the phenomenon known as "Penn Christmas," when all the students leave the neighborhood and abandon most of their worldly possessions on the curb.
So, in 17 years, I moved a one bedroom apartment into a 3 story house (with an attic), added 2 more people, a dozen or so cats, and filled the house to the bursting point.
Now our housemate is moving out at the end of the month, and we'll have an empty third floor apartment - which can't be rented to just anybody, because they would literally have to walk through our house. Trust like that only extends to your oldest friends, who can not only be trusted with your stuff, but with your cats.
|The porch raccoons were not my favorite guests|
So it's time to move. To a smaller house. A "starter" house. With a bit more yard, far less space to cram stuff, and a slightly longer commute to work. (Not thrilled about that part, since I've lived within walking distance of work since I was 19). But the nearby burbs are where it's at for us, where we'll be able to find a smaller, less expensive house, with possibly lower taxes (but at least a higher level of service for said taxes). More yard. Did I mention I want more yard?
After our housemate departs, I'm going up to the attic and start ruthlessly sorting. If it stays, it goes into her space, for now Otherwise, it's getting donated down the street or put on the curb.
I'll start my own Penn Christmas, all by myself.