We couldn’t sell our house if we wanted to, so I guess it’s good that we’re quite attached to it. You don’t have to be a real estate genius to figure out what happened to our “investment” after our 2007 purchase. But we didn’t buy this house to be a moneymaker; we bought it because it felt like Home. And it does. It’s dullsville from the street, but full of sweet and solid things inside. I love the Too Much storage (too much! really!) and all the birch wood and so many doors and a warm, orange kitchen right in the middle. I love that it’s a modest house and a huge house, all rolled up in one. We’re all cozy-close most of the time, but we also have a WHOLE ROOM devoted to our (very serious) Playmobil collection. I like that. We’ve lived here about four and a half years, which is longer than we have ever lived anywhere else. We’ve had plenty of time to accumulate (useful things and crap, alike) and settle down. We’ve had time for our life to change significantly. When we moved here, the husband worked nearby. Now, he works in the city, which is where we wanted to be all along. He’s been at his position for a couple of years and it’s just like all roads led to that perfect job for him. We haven’t lived in Portland since 2004. There was a three year Arizona experiment in there, and then this, small town wine country living. We miss the city. So (ad nauseum) much. Our house still feels like home. But it’s in the wrong place.
Lately, there’s a lot of brain crunching going on about moving, and can we do it? Is it even possible? We aren’t sure. Selling really seems out of the question, so we’re going to explore the Renting It Out option. That might be more doable, but probably no less emotionally trying. Before wheels can begin turning in that direction, though, we have a long list of finicky repairs and improvements to make. The least of which NOT being to get my little office fixed up and lovely. There are so many things that we could do to move forward (or feel like we’re moving forward, it might end up being a treadmill of intention) but I am stagnating in this one room.
And that is why I Flipped! Out! last week at the thrift store when I saw this great chair. It’s way sturdier than it’s $3 price tag implied. And remember? I don’t have a chair for my desk. I can’t sit on the bouncy ball all the time. I find the green paint fine for now, but I will probably repaint. I’m not the sand and refinish sort of fixer-upper, I’m way more of the “glossy spray paint” kind. I just need to decide on a color. It’s such perfect, comfortable chair for my office, I’m really too thrilled about it (three dollars!) to chastise myself for bringing more stuff into the house. More stuff that we will have to sort and pack and move, should that all work out somehow. I should be organizing and purging. I should be getting rid of stuff, not buying more stuff. But, three dollars! Sturdy wooden!
Do you know what happens when you try to take a picture of a chair in my house? Our babycat, Skye, the fully grown but perpetual kitten, jumps up and sits up straight, unblinking, “I’m ready for my shoot. Are you getting my best side?” and I think, who cares about another piece of furniture complicating our nervous hopes, what are we going to do with all these (ding dang) animals? (The current count: 2 dogs, 2 cats and 4 chickens.) We have lived for over four years in this house like we really live here, which we do, and is exactly the thing to do in a house. Live. But making changes to the arrangement, relocating to the city, closer to the husband’s work, closer to the services the baby boy will need, closer to the things the big girl wants and this city mouse (me) misses, is going to be hard. So much stuff, so many animals, such tricky financial juggling. I would like to jump ahead a year or so and just be there and see how we did it. Because from this end, it seems nearly impossible.
It has been so clear and cold. Maybe it will snow? It’s kind of weird to be so focused on the big messy moving dilemma when it’s winter and we should be content. Winter is a staying put season, not the time to be wishing we were elsewhere.
Do you know these guys, this song? Pancake Breakfast’s Little Bird? It is just right for cold days and thinking about homes, flying away. If my life is ever made into a movie, well, it would be the most boring and frustrating movie, I wouldn’t even watch it, no way, but it sure would have a good soundtrack!