Under a Red Roof

A final look at our Pittsburgh house. It was that first glimpse of the fireplace in the living room that made me want it. I was house shopping without the hubster, and he, much to my great wonder, is a rather big J.R.R. Tolkien fan. He’s read all the books, in English and in French, and seen the movies, too, even “dragging” me to the first fil-um in The Lord of the Rings trilogy, during which I was so bored that I read a magazine in the half light of the theater – different strokes for different folks, dear peeps. Anyway, one glance at that Tolkien-esque metal work and I knew he would love it, that it was the place for us. And it was!

We loved it as best we could in the time we had, with light fixtures, paint and plants, odd repairs and new doors, while squeaking around on century old floors (it’s a rhyme!). We spied birds through wavy glass and marveled at the solidity of the stone foundation, the sturdiness of brick. This great house has seen so much.

And my prediction, that it would all feel like some strange dream, is already coming to fruition. Out walking together, we laughed aloud, “Wow, Pittsburgh! That really did happen!”

And home, again. The Front Range capped in snow and those bewitching Colorado skies. Not for a moment realizing the adrenaline that was keeping me fueled, it took a good few days for me to recover from the trip west. There were many long naps for this non-napper and even longer nights of sound slumber. Thankfully, I am more myself and inching my way out into the world. Maybe I’ll see you around. I’m the one with the camera, gawping at mountains and blue skies like they were only recently invented!