It's Always Been "Texas Forever," But Now It's Really Texas Forever
We bought a house in Austin, Texas.
In March, my fiancé and I bought a house together, officially making Austin our home.
In April, the massive agave plant next to our front door began its once-in-a-lifetime “death bloom.”
Seemingly overnight, our agave sprouted a flower stalk straight from the center of the plant. Every day, it grew taller and taller, eventually surpassing the height of the roof.
Once an agave plant sends up its towering flower stalk, it’s doomed to die. But it’s not going down without one final, dramatic show. The agave only blooms once in its life, right before it dies, as a way of ensuring its legacy. For the plant, it’s a last-ditch effort to produce seeds and pass on its genes.
It can take up to 30 years to reach this point in the plant’s natural life cycle, which is about the time it took me to reach this next life stage, the one where I do things like buy a house and get married – both in the same year.
Seemingly overnight, my life has blossomed almost as quickly as the agave death bloom. Days after closing on the house, about two weeks before we actually moved in, my fiancé (Jesse) was there doing some light renovations when a white, fluffy dog walked straight into the open door. She had a collar, but no tags, and it looked like she had been living outside on her own for a while. He brought her back to our rental house, which, at this point, was littered with the mess of moving boxes. I came home from a work dinner to find them cuddling on the couch.
“It’s just for one night,” he swore. “I’m going to take her to the vet tomorrow to see if she’s chipped.”
He took her to the vet the next day, but it wasn’t just for one night. She was chipped, but her previous owners had removed nearly all of their contact information besides an email address, which couldn’t be deleted, leading the vet to believe that they wouldn’t be getting back to us anytime soon. We crossed our fingers that she would be right, as we had already started to grow attached. We named her Lola and waited for our phones not to ring.
After 14 days, it was official: Lola was ours. She’s mine and Jesse’s first dog, both as a couple and individually as adults (we both take animal ownership VERY seriously), and honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to us. I can’t imagine this house or our lives without her!
The house that we picked (Lola, my fiancé, and I) is a little three-bedroom, one-and-a-half bathroom with a small garage and a fenced backyard with trees that provide priceless shade on a Texas summer day. Jesse and I fell in love with the backyard, and if Lola could speak, I think she would say the same thing. Her favorite thing to do is sit outside on the patio as the sun sets. (That’s how I know she’s truly my child.)
It’s an older house that was built in the early 80s, so it has plenty of quirks. The bathrooms connect, which means that two people can practically hold hands while using separate toilets. The floors are uneven, the kitchen needs a facelift, and we’re living out of what will eventually be our guest room while we renovate the primary room. We’re so close to the finish line; all we need to do is install crown moulding and paint, but here’s a little sneak peek.
Buying a house in Austin has been an incredibly emotional experience for me. I’m a lifelong Texan. I was born in Houston, raised in San Antonio, and have lived in Austin for nearly 15 years, moving just about as many times. I didn’t know if I would ever be able to buy a house in Austin, especially considering I’ve been self-employed for the last five years. When I was single, moving seemed like something I should do. If not then, when? But something always kept me tied to Texas.
As a beauty editor and writer, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to move to New York City. I’ve toyed with the idea a million times in my head, weighing out the pros and cons. Living in New York is every writer’s dream, is it not? Most, if not all, beauty editors are based in either New York or Los Angeles, but primarily in New York. But unlike other beauty editors, I grew my career here, in Texas. I didn’t have to move for my dream job; I brought my dream job to me.
People say you have to have guts to live in New York, but what if it’s the opposite? I think you have the guts to live anywhere outside of New York and still make all your dreams come true.
It’s always been “Texas forever,” but now it’s really Texas forever.
So that’s what I’ve been up to these last three months that I’ve been quiet: buying a house (that came with a dog), moving in, and trying to renovate multiple rooms at once — all while also trying to plan our wedding that’s in less than six months. (Please, for the love of God, do not ask me how wedding planning is going. Bad!)
The death bloom has been a reminder that everything has its time and its end. Outside our front door, the agave plant funnels all its energy into producing the flower stalk, exhausting its resources in the process. The agave produces such massive blooms to attract as many pollinators as possible, like bees and hummingbirds, which help to transfer pollen and ensure seed production. Once pollinated, the flowers develop into seeds, which could give life to as many as 1,000 more plants. Soon, the agave plant will begin to die, as it has put all of its remaining energy into this final glorious end. There's no stopping an agave from dying after it flowers, so you might as well enjoy the show.
I, for one, can’t wait to see what new life springs forth from this place.
I know this newsletter was more Texas than beauty, so thanks for reading. I promise I’ll be back with more beauty posts later this week!
Thank you for being here. It means the world to me. Follow me on Instagram; my DMs are always open to questions, comments, or horse memes.
Congratulations on your new home! That pup is too cute🥰
How's the housewarming party planning going?