Poor me.

[Update: I think I managed to get the picture where I wanted it...]

Yesterday I was in a black mood all day. Why? Because I don't love the house we're moving into in Ottawa.

All day long, all I could think about was what's wrong with it: it's significantly smaller than what we're used to; the master ensuite is dinky; the dining room is too small for a table AND a hutch; the living room is too small for our big comfy chairs; the windows are all small (except in the living room and sun room); and the kitchen won't have enough cupboards, even after we add more.

Actually, my whine list went even longer than that, but I'll spare you.

Why, you may rightly ask, did we buy the house then? That's what I tried to keep reminding myself. Location was the biggy - biking distance for Steve to get to work. We saw much more beautiful houses (some downright huge) but they were further out or in neighbourhoods where bicycling would be taking your life into your hands. So it was a compromise. It was as much house as we could afford in the location we wanted. And it IS in really excellent condition, and has beautiful hardwood floors in the living room, dining room and bedrooms. And there's a tiny forest right across the street.

And we can make it beautiful, as Steve keeps promising me.

So all this has been going through my mind. Then this morning, I read my cousin's blog.

My cousin, Steve Bramer, is on a mission trip to Hungary and Romania, through his church. He posted some pictures, including this one of "a typical house out here in the rural areas" of Romania.

And it hit me like a brick in the head: we are SO blessed. I am so spoiled. So caught up in Western consumerism and materialism. And I don't like that about myself.

So, I will recover from this well-timed concussion and begin to be grateful for the very cushy life I have. And I'll stop whining.