Meet Dot.

On this, the 20th day of May in the year 2011, after 7.5-ish years of marriage, 2 children, 3 degrees, 5 dwellings, and countless hours spent on realtor.com, Jake and I are homeowners.

This is Dot.

She was born Dorothy in 1921 (the second most popular name in the United States that year), went by Dottie most of her life, but as she's grown older, she's come to love Dot.

And we've come to love her.

She caught the eye of one of our friends, Glenda, who knew that we were looking in a certain school district. It was her first day on the market. We went to see her the next day. I knew she was supposed to be ours. We made an offer the third day after she'd already had several showings. Today at closing, the other agent said that tears were shed by other potential buyers over Dot after she was taken off the market. I understand. We've been there, too, but for good reason. I couldn't have imagined that a home with all our requirements would be waiting. A colorful bungalow in a great school with all the charm in the world, a front porch, and on a corner lot to boot. She's not perfect, well, she is, but she's also 90. She needs some touching up.

I'm certain I will post many a before and after picture. But for now, a first...

What did I first love about her?

Her fire place with built-ins. Followed closely by her windows.

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