HOME

With the exception of six semesters at Iowa State, a summer in a small town 45 miles northwest and six months post-graduation when I worked in Nebraska, I've always lived in the same three-story house built in 1912 on a dead end street in Des Moines.

With each passing year of my life, I've learned to notice and appreciate the details in spaces I occupy. I especially started paying close attention to the quirks in my family's house in the last year, when I knew I would be moving out and entering the next phase of life.

I wanted to document a few of my favorite characteristics, to ensure that I would remember them forever. In looking at these photos of my house, I hope you're able to imagine what it must have been like to live in them. I had a wonderful childhood, and the house and surrounding area was a big reason. Enjoy!

Nothing says 'summer' like drying your laundry on the clothesline in the backyard.

Coupled with my mom's love for wildflowers and efforts to provide a haven for monarch caterpillars and my dad's talents in woodworking, the picket fence in our front yard is arguably the most recognizable characteristic of both our house and the block. My parents encouraged many of our neighbors to paint their own picket to put on the fence. Even our now-retired mail woman painted one!

Tucked between the chair and the bookshelf is a metal air vent that my siblings and I used to sit on and read during the winter. Many Sunday mornings were spent in this corner when I was a kid.

The best seat in the house to sun bathe, mainly occupied by our dog, but occasionally by my mom and her crossword puzzle.

Our kitchen and dining room would never be featured in a magazine, but I prefer it that way. I love the hand-painted walls, bird clock, chipped counter tile 20+ years of use, landline phone from the 2000s, peeling wallpaper and always-cracked-open junk drawers.

Taco night.

Evening light in the dining room.

More often than not, I would wake up to windows covered in frost in the winter. My nose would be cold, but it was worth it because the way the light sparkled through the ice crystals was SO pretty.

The view from my bedroom window.

My attic bedroom ceiling is full of character. Not only because of the giant crack in it, but also the footprints on it from when I would get bored and lay in the bed with my feet in the air, stretching my legs.

My dad's workshop in the basement.

Evening light in the bathroom.

Late-evening shadows.

I have a feeling that I'll call this house, "home" for a long time.

Appreciate

HOME

Report Abuse