This house is what we’re calling our “forever” house. I don’t mean that I’m planning on like, wandering around in a quilted house robe and curlers muttering to my cats in this house when I’m 90 (although honestly, that doesn’t sound outright terrible). What I mean is that we don’t plan on selling this house until the kids are headed to college. Every time I think about this house being my kids’ childhood home, I get a little bit emotional. It’s especially sweet because my very first best friend and her family live just two doors down. I grew up playing with her and her brother, and I can’t help but feel like he’s up there in the great beyond, chuckling and nodding his head in approval at all the fun and memories our kids — the second generation — will create together.

On the inside, though — well, let’s just say that he could use a little sprucing up. Looking at this kitchen, being who I am with the cooking and the nonstop chattering and the eating, well — it’s hard to stomach. So the hubby and I are biting the bullet and hired some contractors to do some renovations.

If everything goes according to the chaotic plan that’s in motion, in a few weeks’ time we’ll be moving into a spruced-up home in a tree-lined neighborhood living next to some very dear old friends. I’ll still be connected to Charleston in a variety of ways, most immediately through my parents and our friends here. I have deep, deep gratitude towards Charleston for having been the place our young family grew larger (with the addition of Gravy Too) and to the people who shaped our lives for the past three years.  This city will always have a special place in my heart.

Those floral curtains, on the other hand — well, I could live without those.

For more goings-on, check out my post last week on a North Charleston bar/restaurant opening that I went to.