Approximately three years ago, my Ben and I moved into our dream house. Working with awesome builders who became very good friends, every tiny piece of the home was designed to our wants and needs. We went with the modern farmhouse design. Gray floors, white shiplap. Black leathered countertops on one side and gray/white marbled on the island. Sparkling white cabinetry. Floor to ceiling windows. Even a built in doggie door and benches! Natural jute rugs and blinds throughout. Gorgeous gas logs to stare at.
It was beautiful, y’all.
As for my Ben, he loved having our own boat slip and a great neighborhood to ride the golf cart around in. It was so clean and well-kept.
Six months or so passes and we are completely happy in our new forever home.
I go shopping, which surprisingly, isn’t something I really do often. But sometimes if I have to to the town over for a doctor appointment, or hair, I’ll pop in a shop or two. And you must know, I’m not someone who collects things. I do not like clutter, or collections, or useless purchases. I will think about things for ages (and research the best deals/reviews) before buying. I’m not a impulse buyer.
But one day I was in a store and I saw this little blue bird.
I do love birds. But I admired it and walked on, because that blue didn’t go with anything in my new home. It was completely off-design.
As I strolled through the aisles, I kept thinking of that little bird and I felt drawn to it! I didn’t understand it all, and didn’t have a place to put it that I thought it would look good, but I found myself going back and examining it again.
Then I popped it into my cart, unsure why or where it would go, but feeling like I had to have it.
So I brought it home and put it in my office, where it wasn’t front and center in the main rooms.
Fast forward a couple of years, and the neighborhood ended up not being so wonderful any more. Suddenly there were too many homes being squeezed in, and a difficult neighbor or two. I spent my downtime looking at Zillow, dreaming of somewhere new.
Then one day in my emails, I saw a day-old listing for a house in the country.
A one-bedroom log cabin built in 1989 and then expanded in 1998.
The photos were old. Really old and the house looked like it needed a lot of work.
But it came with 19 acres of woods with lake access.
No dock or slip. Orange linoleum kitchen floors. Old cabinets.
But lots of privacy.
I called the number.
“Sorry,” homeowner said. “I took the listing down after 24 hours. I’m buried with people who want to see it and am not taking any more lookers.”
I begged. I pleaded.
So he said if we’d come at 9pm, (!!) we could see the house last.
Even without seeing pictures of the updated areas of the house, I wrote up an offer.
When we arrived, it was dark but as soon as we followed the long gravel driveway up to the house, we were in love. Without even walking in.
The owner was talking to the couple who was finishing up, and they were making it clear that they were putting in an offer.
But so did we.
The one room that had been remodeled was the kitchen, and it was beautiful.
The owner had three offers to choose from the next day.
But he chose ours, even though it wasn’t the highest.
He chose ours because we had a connection via both being involved in the adoption circles.
We moved in and have been having a ball fixing this place up and making it comfortable for our grandkids to come visit.
My Ben got a tractor and he’s over the moon about it.
The Bratt Pack has lots of places to explore, and no visible neighbors to bark at.
We have a quaint little path to walk down in the woods to be at our cove.
The style of this house is country, cozy, and fits us perfectly.
We are loving having real, raging fires in our stone fireplace.
And remember that useless, un-matching blue bird?
It is the exact color of the already painted kitchen in our new house, and has a place of honor in my amazing kitchen.
We call this place Hart’s Ridge.
And we are so blessed to have this home.
God knows what he’s doing.
Even if we don’t.