We moved into our house 11 years ago today. While it's not perfect - the family room faces west, and we could do with another bedroom and a garage - it's served us well and we all love it. Although, my eldest son (aged 13) tells me that he wants to live somewhere big and modern.
(These photos are old, taken when we renovated four years ago. How I wish the walls were this white now!)
Of course, a house is just a house. What really matters is what happens inside it. The walls may be a lot grubbier these days, and we may be running out of space now the kids are getting older, but there's a whole lot of memories here. When we moved in we had one small two and a half year old boy, and I was six months pregnant. Our daughter and another son have been born since we moved here, and we've acquired a much loved cat and rabbit - and about a gazillion toys - along the way.
We've celebrated many many birthdays within these four walls and in this messy garden; everything from a first birthday to a 90th (and yours truly's 40th). There's been many Christmasses, barbeques, a post-funeral afternoon tea, and lots of overnight visitors too. We've had many happy and some sad times here, and will no doubt have many more.