“It’s the least offensive of any of the couches we have looked at.” Those are the words that came out of my mouth as I admitted defeat and gave in to a monstrous leather sectional with power recliners.

Congratulations, we are on record! The five words buyers and sellers wait to hear from the closing attorney that a sale is official. The recording of the deed makes it official, but when does a house become a home? Is it move in day, after the last box has been unpacked, or once family photos have been hung and a fresh coat of paint covers the walls?

Our first house was a fixer upper. It had hardwood floors underneath worn tiles and original bead board in the kitchen behind 80s paneling and avocado appliances. It “rained” in the living room when we flushed the upstairs toilet….that was a surprise we found right after we closed on the house and began to remove the drop ceiling.

There is something cathartic about painting a room. The closest I have come to a state of oneness is when I am painting. I get lost in what I am doing until the old color has disappeared and the space is transformed. Yesterday I found that calm at my sister’s new home.

I got a Garmin Vivofit for Christmas because I needed a gentle reminder to get moving. It started off as a fun way to track activity and challenge my sister and her fiancée to see who is the most active but ended up teaching me an unintended lesson.

Last spring, we cut down several overgrown shrubs in front of our house. We hauled them off to the side of the yard forming a massive pile and vowed to deal with them soon. Our next door neighbor offered to burn them; he even went out of his way to get a burn permit and dropped it off to us.