This house belongs to us. And we, of course, belong to FHA now, as do all our assets and every paycheck until we die.

The house needs some work (starting with that dumb porch roof, which isn't the right pitch for bungalow style), but the work it needs is all cosmetic, and it has brand-new plumbing and lots of electrical upgrades. It's also, hallelujah, in the city, not a suburban monstrosity, and comes with a mortgage we can afford.

I'm a homeowner! I was starting to think it would never happen. Kudos to our very patient realtor and our fantastic mortgage guy, and if you need either of these items in Houston, let me know, because I can hook you up.



And it has a front porch. Expect a swing and some margaritas to happen on said front porch, pronto.

It doesn't happen often, but every now and then, I am hit with a wave of homesickness for D.C. so strong, it leaves me a little breathless.