We all know the local housing market has been a bit crazy, so it was no easy feat for her to find a place within budget and make the winning offer. This past month, however, she closed on a house she loves and is now in the process of making it her own.

Natalie is living the HGTV dream, only better, and I have to say I’m a tad envious. Why? Her family owns a construction business, and her talented father and uncle have been working night and day to remodel the home.

Over at the Hazlett household, we have a different version of the remodel story. We’re replacing a bathroom shower and single-sink vanity. It took a while to find a qualified person willing to take on the small job, but the demolition finally began the Monday after St. Patrick’s Day. The task, estimated to take one week, will hopefully be completed by Memorial Day. In the meantime, I am dodging plaster buckets and a toilet in the hallway.

Back at Natalie’s split-level house, in the space of two weeks, she and her family have painted every room and all the cabinets, added a handmade fireplace mantle, installed new ceiling tiles and built a trendy paneled wall. Oh, and during his spare time, her dad refinished an antique buffet table that looks like it came straight out of “House Beautiful” magazine.

So, yeah, I’m living vicariously through her remodel.

At the gym, Natalie is focused on strengthening my core, but I’d rather talk home décor.

“Let’s do some planks,” she says.

“Speaking of planks, are you using hard wood or luxury vinyl for the entryway? Did you see that your paint color is listed as one of Sherwin Williams’ top 10? Did you get that photo I sent you of area rugs?”

I might be overwhelming her a bit with my suggestions. I forget that when I was her age, I lived in government-subsidized housing and was thrilled to have a stove with three functional burners. Back then my wall color palette was “Faded by Sun” and “Black Scuff Marks Caused by Moving Furniture.”

Over the years I’ve developed my own decorating style which my husband lovingly describes as “Early American Hobby Lobby.” I’ve gotten wiser about décor choices except in one area: couches. What looks great in a showroom doesn’t always work in my living room.

When I finally found a perfect sofa, one of the dogs (when she was an eager puppy) ate the back cushion. I’m not kidding. My husband repaired the large rip with silver duct tape to keep bits of foam from raining down on us all.

Thrifty Natalie is the proud owner of two hand-me-down couches. The original owners, her parents, felt the furniture didn’t have enough support and gave the upholstered pieces to Natalie’s older sister. She, in turn, after two months, put them in storage.

Natalie’s father said he’d rather move bulky sofas to the dumpster than move them for a third time, but he reluctantly agreed.

It reminds me of my friend Marty, whose first couch was such a large beast, the only place it would fit was next to the kitchen counter, the space normally occupied by bar stools. Every time Marty got off the couch, he hit his head on the counter overhang.

The super-sized sofa was a leftover from his mother’s Southwestern decorating phase and looked like a cattle drive.

“It would’ve gone well with a Longhorn skull and an adobe hut,” he said. Thankfully, for the sake of Marty’s head, the couch was passed on to other first-time homeowners.

Natalie, however, is quite content with her “new” seating arrangement. After all, she has a view of newly painted walls, a striking fireplace mantle and a to-die-for buffet table.

Best of all, it’s hers. Home sweet first home.