It’s been nearly two months in the new house, and so much has already changed. All of the rooms and hallways have been painted. The trim, windows, and moldings brought to new life, showing off their ornate detail designed more than a hundred years ago. It’s incredible how quickly these walls have transformed into home.

My desire for my home is to be both styled and storied, a mix of rustic charm and modern influence. Sumptuous, inviting, and classic. A retreat of light, peace, rootedness. A place to know and be known. Well lived-in and well-loved in.

There’s much to love about the house that I never would’ve thought to list during my search. The neighborhood is mixed, eclectic, active. The sidewalks lined at first dawn and last light with walkers, bikers, joggers. The restaurants are bustling, Wealthy one street to my south, Cherry one street to the north. Marie Catrib’s, Green Well, Grove, Maru, and Brewery Vivant. Donkey Taqueria, Electric Cheetah, Winchester, and Elk Brewing. A myriad of Uptown events: Wealthy Theatre shows, Wine School at Mangiamo’s, Gallery nights at LaFontsee and Richard App. It’s one of the few neighborhoods I know to be a true mix of  renters & owners, families & college students, young professionals, doctors, and presidents of nearby colleges. It’s inviting, social, accepting, refreshing.

I love exploring the neighborhood by foot and bicycle, my eyes constantly admiring the architecture in the various historic districts of this time period: Greek Revival, Queen Anne, Italianate, and mine: Victorian.

My home was built in 1900 and is part of the Fairmount Historic District, flagged by Cherry to the North, Diamond to the East, Eastern to the West, and Cherry to the South.

I love stories, and this house certainly tells one. From its stained glass windows to claw foot tub, three porches, and detailed moldings and staircase, there is something to love in each room. I adore the contrast of opposites: old & new, black & white, masculine & feminine, gold & silver.

I love the stories that are being created here too, even just a few weeks in: a housewarming party with fifty of our closest friends, the first time our friends came together. A dinner party. A football watch party. Grilling on the back deck; surf and turf one night, chicken kabobs and corn on the cob the next. I love the last minute guests, the friends and family that pop in when they’re in the neighborhood.

I dream and pray for the stories that I desire to unfold in this home: becoming a wife, sharing life and dinner at the table with the man I love. Becoming a mother, navigating a stroller through the neighborhood’s brick roads and walking trails. I pray for all the “firsts” here, the meals with friends, the authentic conversations, the projects and renovations, the disappointments and failures, the holidays and celebrations.

I’m delighted to share my home with you with small glimpses of the progress so far.

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