This Old House

I have a flower bed that is taking a beating from the 99 degree sun, a front window with a hole from a rock thrown out of a neighbor's lawn mower, a clog in our main line that the plumber says looks like oil from working on a '57 Chevy in a garage and has to be scoped to find the degree of bad (good is apparently no longer in the equation), a huge white spot in the living room where the plaster had to be fixed and a nest of birds living between a crack in our stone but when I sit back and watch my family run around in our front yard and look down our street through a sea of shutters and green lawns, I wouldn't trade the character of this beautiful old house and its neighborhood of counterparts for anything. I am entirely blessed. Aggravated and stressed as crap. But blessed.