I get home after work, pull a gravity chair out of the shed I built, place it on the lawn I mowed, under the huge Douglas Fir tree I love, and I chill with two fingers of whisky from my liquor cabinet.

And I just sit there.

I look around at my yard. I watch the sun set over Puget Sound and the Olympic Mountain Range. I watch the bees work the flowers and vegetable plants my wife and I plant with the best intentions. Two squirrels are taking chestnuts from my neighbor's tree, running along my fence, and burying them in the yards around me. (Not many in my yard: My dog makes sure the squirrels don't spend much time on the ground in my yard.)

Sometimes the neighbor's kid will have her friends over, and they squeal like pre-teen girls on a trampoline... because they are pre-teen girls on a trampoline.

Now that I own a house, pretty much every time I go over to my parents house, they ask me to bring my tools as well... there's always a painting that needs to be hung, or a door that isn't closing right. And since I have already fixed all those things in my house, at one time or another, they think I'm a genius, and can fix any problem they have, too.

Big picture, I have the benefits - personal and financial - of being "settled". And it is wonderful. I never thought I would own my own home again, and that I would rent for the rest of my life. But things changed. And I am now a homeowner again. The relief of being my own landlord is inexpressible. It's amazing.