#8810 Home for the Holidays


Being at home is a craving of mine, its at the top of the list of ways to fill up my cup.

Home is where I worship, home is where I live in sweatpants and dirty hair, home is the place I always return to. My constant, my starting ground, where I invite my closest friends and family to walk with me, talk with me and to eat in my home.

Moving to Lubbock was a huge jump for us, we have spent the last six months two hundred miles apart for work and obligations we made before we even considered that moving was in the cards. This opportunity was one we couldn’t pass up and it has come with so many challenges but even more blessings.

Just a few short weeks ago after seven long months of searching, picking builder – then a lot, building, and finally signing on the dotted line we closed on our second home and moved in TOGETHER to our brand new home, 8810.

The process though frustrating became quickly rewarding as it rounded out and became a solid foundation, walls, a roof then finally all the little details.

I love this home it is a culmination of all our hopes and dreams for this post college move, and it holds so many dreams yet to unfold and so much to share along the way!

We aren’t quite settled yet, my garage still holds many many boxes and unpacking a life that was stored in a red dirt filled garage means we vacuums and dust every day as we uncover more pieces of our life.

But of course moving in the first week of December means that Christmas decorations were first priority on the list of things to unpack. Nothing feels more like home then our cozy Christmas tree, our stockings hung on the bookshelf with care, and some new decor commemorating our first Christmas in LBK.


It’s good to be home for the holidays.

Stay Merry!



Little Pink Houses For You and Me 

img_5212-1Just like the John Mellencamp song, we moved into a little pink house in an old part of town, this however is nothing like my American dream….

The neighborhood is not in a “bad” part of town per say but it’s old and unkept, everything here just feels a little dirtier, there are stray animals prowling the streets, trash lining every fence line, and the people although nice enough sit on their porches smoking endlessly.

It’s like taking a step back a decade or two, to a land where junk is collected like treasure and it clutters porches and garages.

4923 — The Pink House on the Corner

This was the house my husband lived in till he was 4, when his family moved to Denver. Since then it has been a rent house and as the town grew and the neighborhood aged the sweet dreamy newlywed, family of three dreams have been erased from these walls, buried under three different non-cohesive paint jobs. Paralleled by broken tiles, carpet that has held two decades of hard life lived on borrowed time, and a hot water heater that hums and pops a tune we have learned to fall asleep to.

Although living here has been just short of a nightmare, it seems so idealistic and ironic to be living in the house that held the homecoming of dreams and the culmination of love for my sweet in-laws as we anxiously await our new construction build to wrap up. The home we will bring our babies home to.

As the deadlines and closing dates get pushed back once more, I’ve prayed for purpose to be found in this little pink house.

Instinct and prayer led me to bake cookies and write a card and walk over and introduce ourselves.

We met Pat at 4322 and her husband waves to us from the porch as we pull up the drive.

And Sharon at 4324, who came out from behind large signs proclaiming BEWARE DOG and NO SOLICITORS, with the kindest smile full of warmth.

4325 has a toddler who rides her tricycle in the yard. But it seems they moved out last weekend while we were traveling. It took me three days before breaking in to the cookies we had set aside for them.

It is unclear how long we will be living in the little pink house, but for now I guess it’s home, and we will keep dreaming.