Rantings Diversified

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I love my house. I love the red rosy bricks and the cast iron radiators. I love the shiny, happy hard wood floors and the cherry stained hickory doors and trim. The fire place, mantle and I are really tight. My basement doesn’t feel complete without me. My garage is always complaining about the winter weather and the fact that I’m not down there wrenching on my lawn mower or the Thruxton. My kitchen and I are one. My office gets even more cozy when I’m in there. My driveway and I have been in discussions as to what direction our relationship is going to go once the snow melts. I keep bringing up paving but my driveway keeps bringing up that whole natural grass thing.
Now in all fairness my furnace, fuel oil tank and I have had some words. All I ask is that they never run out of fuel oil and all they want to do is spend my money. We’re seeing a councilor.
My front lawn hasn’t felt well since I moved in but agreed to hang in until spring and I promised to give it a major network TV type makeover. My bay window and I love each other. We do little things for each other. Every morning I open the blinds and shades and every day it bathes my living room in sunshine. My dining room and I are at peace together. We have a great relationship. I can pile the table with mail, newspapers, magazines and junk all week so long as I clean it up on the weekend.
I love my lamp post. Not only does it remind me where my house is when I’m on my way home at night but it illuminates the entire neighborhood, such the great neighbor that it is.
The moral of this story is you should never anthropomorphize your house. It really makes it mad.