Selling a home is a difficult thing to do. 

On paper, it is a house, complete with square footage, three full baths, a “Florida Room that overlooks a private back yard,” yada, yada, yada.  

But there is much more to it than that.  We’ve only been in this house for four years, but have been able to fill it with amazing memories along the way, most of which you would have to have been a part of to understand.  

Our first year here was Andrew’s senior year in high school.  Of course, that flew by in a whirlwind of activities, such as:

• His video project that he stayed up all night to complete
• His friends and their indoor airsoft gun fights, complete with the battle music they recorded themselves
• the wrecker driver dropping off his Bronco after it met with sudden death against a retaining wall on the interstate (November 15, 2004, in case you are wondering)
• His quest to make sure he was never on time to school, except for that one night they camped out in the hallway as a practical joke
• The “W” sticker that he proudly put on his riding lawnmower

For Malloree, who was entering fifth grade when we moved in -

• She and her neighbor friends playing hide and seek before we had any furniture in here.
• She and Tommy pitching softball in the yard
• During her volleyball year, she would hit the ball in the air (and off the wall) for hours at a time.
• Her sleepovers with giggly friends on the inflatable mattress that deflates through the night.
• Getting a dog for her 13th birthday, and then later, her photography sessions that focused on trying to catch him in mid-air. (bless his furry little heart)

Crystal was grown by the time we got here, so she was somewhat less destructive.  She filled her time, and our house, in her own way.

• By taking endless bubblebaths in our tub, and finding a way to bring in a TV and hook up cable to it in the process. (it’s a wonder she is not still in there)
• By practicing her dances in every room of the house, mostly the dining room because of the mirrored wall.
• By giving the Papa John’s delivery guy something to do every single day.
• By chasing Nathan and Ben up and down the stairs when she would babysit them.
• By giving up her bed (the most comfortable in the house) whenever Malloree or Andrew were sick, because that’s where they ended up anyway.

Some of my favorite times were when we sat in the Florida Room, just listening to the rain on the tin roof; dancing in the kitchen with Tommy to the hum of the refrigerator; chatting in the hot tub on the deck while it was snowing; the surprise party for Andrew when Granny forgot to hide; laying by the fireplace at Christmas in a “pile of Grimeys;” church get togethers that often brought people who had never even been to our church; and countless video shoots for all of the pointless camp videos, which of course, was the point after all.    

So many memories, such great times, so much more than just a house.

We are going to miss the Peak Hill Mansion.