It was two years ago that I first laid eyes on what was to become Bonafide Farm. I was living in Northern Virginia, working in D.C., and actively scouting all real estate between there and Charlottesville. My parents discovered this property, for sale by owner, on one of their drives. They sent a couple of photos, and I wrote it off until the next time I was down for a visit. Then my mom and I took a drive. It was raining, and I was taking photos from the passenger’s seat of her car as we slowly passed by.

The house was nothing to write home about, but I liked the setting…the way the house sat proud and high surrounded by its fields and trees and mountains.

That night, I called the number on the for sale sign. Fast forward two years and I am sitting in a beautiful almost year old house that looks like it’s always been here, windows open, smelling daffodils and woodsmoke from last night’s fire, bacon from this morning’s breakfast. I’ve eradicated the honeysuckle that was suffocating the quince in the photo above, and replaced the mailbox, and added many young trees. My kitty is in the open window, listening to the birds singing their evensong. What a two years it’s been, but I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be right now.