This week at home -- our washing machine is broken and the heat went out and we had a leak in the attic -- and now, a hole in the ceiling.
I first found the listing nearly a year ago, on a Saturday morning whim, frustrated by the hunt for a new apartment. It's not our house, and we won't be here forever. I've felt discouraged about it and a bit helpless; I can't fix plumbing. Still, I'm trying to be mindful of the things I love most - how the sun streams in the front windows early each morning, the worn wood floors, the cozy spaces we've carved out here -- the first place we've truly made our own.
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