Nothing Can Last Forever

Not that I enjoy my ride on the crazy train to depression, I love when I begin to go into remission.


I kind of have a love-hate relationship with our house. I love it, but it is so stinkin’ big! As I was cleaning part of it today, I reflected upon the houses we have lived in since the beginning of our marriage.

Our first was a story and a half. That meant that the two bedrooms upstairs were tiny, cramped, slanted roof-size rooms. An adult person could only stand up straight in the middle of the room. Closet space was …. um …. minimalist.


I’m sitting on the porch with our first two kids

The memories from that home will always make me smile. You see, it was a house that my dad bought next to the house I grew up in. I spent many hours with him while he renovated that house so that my grandpa could move in there. He gave me an old metal bucket to sit on while I read various books.

The house was on what I would call a pretty steep hill…in the South, they’re called mountains. My grandpa would walk up and down that hill many times a week to do his grocery shopping. I can’t remember how old my grandpa was when my aunt and dad decided to move him downtown—maybe 87? I don’t know who decided, but going up and down that hill seemed to be too much. You know, I think that’s what kept him young. Anyway, when he moved, my brother and I were fortunate to rent the house from my dad.

My brother married and moved on and I stayed in the house.

It’s the house my husband and I brought home our first two kids. The house we sectioned off a part of the living room to build a temporary room for the second child because she seemed to never sleep.

It was a house with one bathroom. We had to go down the stairs, around the corner, and through the kitchen to get to that bathroom. When my water broke in the early morning hours, I couldn’t believe I made it all the way to that bathroom without having to have a jar of pickles handy. (pregnant lady joke)

Our oldest turned one while living there. He also got his head stuck in the balusters that weren’t to code—my dad renovated it prior to all the new building codes of today. When our oldest was 2 he locked me out of the house and stood at the window, laughing at me.

The day before my daughter was born the temperature was 99F degrees . A temperature seldom felt in the Seattle metro area, hence, no air conditioning in our house—or many other houses for that matter.

We shoved our extended families in for holiday parties and birthdays. We almost sat elbow to elbow, but it is a nice memory.

The only bad thing about the house was the school district it was located. We moved to an area with better schools longย before our oldest started kindergarten.

I loved our little house and cleaning it was a breeze.

But we moved…..


About April

I'll come back to this when I find out who I really am. I've been through some extremely rough patches but they have made me a better person. I blog if my brain is functioning first thing in the morning.
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26 Responses to Nothing Can Last Forever

  1. Bradley says:

    We’ve decided when we buy a house we’re going to go small. We don’t want to have to clean too much and as we get older we don’t want to have to go up and down stairs. Basically we want our apartment, but detached from all the others. Many good reasons not to go big when buying a home.

    • April says:

      Our first home was a little over 800 sq ft. We were just a little ahead of the tiny house movement. ๐Ÿ™‚ Yes, small is good.

  2. joey says:

    We did look at two big houses that were essentially the same price as our little bungalow. All I could imagine was the cleaning and hauling the laundry up and down stairs AGAIN. And while I can probably manage that another 20 years? (God willing) do I want to? Do I want to fall and break my hip over clean hand towels?
    It’s been interesting to see people react and inquire, like we lost a bet or took a hit financially, but I do think being cozy with two kids for a while is preferable to maintaining another big house and then moving again. I’m sure this little bungalow is the perfect amount of space for a couple.
    I hated cleaning so much flooring. I mean, I REALLY hated it. Smaller spaces are for me. I’m tidy anyway, but it being small forces regular pick up and put away. I can bust my butt and have this sucker shiny in 3-4 hours if I need to.
    I’ve lived in the house where the bathroom was crazy far, too. And I was pregnant. I know that was not the best time of my life!

    • April says:

      I think I also want to live in a house with no blinds, curtains, or any sort of window covering as well. Hate cleaning those.

      • joey says:

        Ah, I could never forgo privacy, but I understand. Yesterday, I had drapery issues, and as I stood on the chair to fix it, I realized the tops of my fancy finials were DUSTY like whoa.
        Blinds I abhor, but cats make it even worse. Our back door has the blinds built-in the door, and I must say, those are nice ๐Ÿ™‚

        • April says:

          We have faux wood blinds and the cats haven’t been able to destroy them. Every time I open them I think…didn’t I just dust those? The top of the ceiling fan is also a thing I forget. (maybe on purpose)

          • joey says:

            Ceiling fans are not my friends! lol The Mister usually cleans them, because I will ignore them beyond reason.
            I wanted faux wood blinds in the master, but I ended up getting that privacy film and I’m very pleased with the light and the trees. Good to know they withstand cats, too!

  3. reocochran says:

    April, I liked this story and a half house you lived in and all the memories held in the post you wrote. Having your Dad renovate it, having the home you grew up in next to it, so many wonderful features although the bathroom does seem quite inconvenient. Your country home you are starting to fix up may be the perfect place for no blinds or curtains. I forget. . . How close are your neighbors? ๐Ÿ™‚
    I live in a small space but would like to have a little bigger place, one where someone may come and share it with me. Or maybe that “someone” would already have a place and share it with me? Smiles, Robin

    • April says:

      Our little house in Missouri is small but not as small as our first house. We can see one neighbor in the distance, but the only thing peeping in at us will be cows. ๐Ÿ™‚

  4. Sounds perfect. Did the house stay in the family? โค
    Diana xo

  5. Glynis Jolly says:

    Your first house as a married lady reminds me of the house a friend of mine had when she lived in Iron River, Michigan (above Wisconsin), although her house did already have a bedroom on the first floor. Still, the travel from upstairs to downstairs to use the bathroom was the same. Pondering on it now, I wonder if there’s a connection because both your house and her house were up on the northern edge of the nation.

    Bigger doesn’t always mean better, just like newer doesn’t always mean better either.

    • April says:

      The only thing I know about our first house is that it was one of the first on the street. It was built in 1906. In that case, with three children, I believe I would have went nuts. We also didn’t want our kids to get their public education from one of the worst schools around the area and couldn’t afford private. Anyway, I like small…

  6. mewhoami says:

    Sounds like a wonderful little family home, with the exception of the bathroom of course. That would be quite a trek for a woman in labor or even after a large glass of tea. I like how your family was so close, emotionally and physically. That’s very special.

  7. aviets says:

    It looks like a dear little house!

  8. Zyreen Robins says:

    This isn’t a house, this is a home full of memories. Thanks for sharing your lovely house story.

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