This Old House

 Most days, in this little gem of a seaside cottage, I get a reminder of why I miss my old house.  Some of these reminders are/but are not limited to:
1.  The previous residents, and I don't mean the human ones.  Their visits have slacked off since the summer, but every now and then I will find a critter in my house that makes me want catch the next bus back to Richmond.  Since we sold our house, I just sulk about it and call my bug man instead.  Fortunately, my bug man takes his job very seriously.
2.  My closet.  To retrieve shoes from my closet I have to become a contortionist. Therefor, I wear the same two pairs all the time.  Every time I think to myself "hey, those black ballet flats would be cute" and begin the process of trying to reach the very back of the closet to find them,  it ends in disappointment.  Never fails, I only ever find one shoe to the pair.
3.  The Attic.  I made a vow after the first time I visited our attic that I was never going up there again.  Over the last 7 months I have made the journey a total of three times (this could be due to the fact that I was pregnant some of those months).  The last time, I noticed that there is a headless baby doll that lives up there.  This only increased my dislike for this space.  However, my desire for Christmas decorations overruled my vow and I have found myself up there several times this month.  Here is what I have learned about our attic:  I could loose my life entering or exiting our attic very easily.  The "stairs"  are quiet possibly the steepest stairs in the world.  I'm not sure if I should treat them like stairs or a ladder.  One day, I am going to fall and it will be the end.  If I get lucky and my neck stays in tact, a head injury will be unavoidable.  Even if I don't succumb to a fall on the stairs, I'm pretty sure that headless baby doll is coming after me!

I make a conscience decision most days to say thank you for this house.  I know that is not evident from this post.  It has redeeming features, like my family sits together for dinner here and now that the leaves have fallen from the trees we have a lake view, and the sun pours through the windows in the morning and makes everything golden.  God provides.  We have an abundance.  Things that scurry and tiny closets are just details.  The attic though...
Here is my magical little Maggie that I promised.

 She smiled for me today, so I clicked away.  She was looking for "bur-dies, wed ones and green ones."

 She is the sweetest little thing.  She has to touch you when she is near you. Sometimes I miss it because I'm hurrying being the keeper of this home.  I have to remember to notice those darling things she does because I know that they are important.  

 She is feisty too though.  True story, a boy was chasing Libby one day and Maggie came to me with angry tears in her eyes and said "Mommy! That boy is trying to get Libby."  A few minutes later I looked up and I saw her knocking that little boy to the ground.  He was five years old and about two feet taller than her.  This girl is passionate.

 I don't know how it happened, but she will be 3 next month.  Precious girl.

 Maggie Bell, sweetest girl I know.
Grace and Peace

On a side note, what do you think of what I did to the kitchen chairs?  I needed a change (Grandma, I think I was channeling Rosie's).
Wow, this post post is kind of all over the place.
;0)