As we unpacked more (and more and more) boxes in our new home, I found myself searching for some sort of finished product.  Any sort of finished product.  Tackling this need, I tried desperately to tidy up just a few spots.  Kitchen, living room, desk.  If I could at least make them look somewhat finished, I could carry on.  The storage room would be stuffed and the home’s foundation might sink 3 feet, but at least we would have a few livable areas.

A few hours (er, many, many hours) later, I had successfully hidden (er, unpacked) boxes in several primary living areas.  Looking up and taking a deep breath, I looked out from the kitchen into the living room and there I saw something wonderful.  Sure it looked sort of finished.  Sure it did need decorating.  Sure it still needed books on the shelves and a fire in the fireplace, but what I saw was wonderful.  My weary eyes not only saw a living room mostly finished, but what I saw was a room ready for our family’s love.  An area where we could grow.  An area where we could be.  An area that my family would fill with love.  Perfect and just what my tired eyes needed.

The photo does not do the room justice, but the dog seems pretty happy settling his furry butt into a chair of his choosing.