We're Buying a Home

In England.
Because my military guy makes such great money.

Here's the front of it. I know, kind of a fixer-upper, but it has potential, don't you think?

Here's the front door. I'm thinking of painting it red. (oh, and somewhere in a recent post, I mislead some of you and you think the Hubby is currently deployed. He's not-- see, that's him wearing a Norwich City Football shirt.)
And the stairs. Lovely.
I don't have to splurge to buy baby gates for Monster Girl, nor expensive anti-theft devices-- it's all included.
The garden my kids will destroy playing football.
The well I will throw them into when they argue. That flag pole? I will hoist the flag that says "It's ok to come by now, I'm dressed" so you never feel like I'm acting strangely behind the door when you drop by unannounced.
The tree I will sit under while reading Jane. alone. with my Galaxy chocolate.
Our closest neighbors. I will fill in that mote just in case their sheep decide to come eat my daughter. Not that I've ever experienced that other than friday when the petting zoo sheep decided Miss Ky tasted pretty good.
My always impeccably dressed children will fit right in, don't you think?


It's wonderful to be finally putting down roots. Deep, debt-ridden roots.
Feel free to come for a visit, as you can see, I will have plenty of room.