Poor Husband and I have declared war on our house. We have lived here for over twenty-five years, and it shows.
The carpet… what carpet? We have worn it to the padding in some places. The kitchen and bathrooms are pathetically dingy, and it seems nothing ever stays where I can find it. We have decided that we are going to spend the next couple of years getting it fixed up so we can move.
It isn’t that this is a bad house, or that the neighborhood has gone down. It is just that we are tired of looking at it. And I feel yearnings to return to a bit of my roots. Poor Husband and I both grew up in farm country, and I want to spend my remaining days planting fruit trees and puttering with an herb garden. While we have a decent-sized yard, it isn’t up to new trees.
There is also the location. Over the years, it seems that our lives have shifted eastward. We live near Tampa, and now most of our activities and friends are in or near Orlando. As I’ve gotten older, the drive to Disney World has started to get harder, especially coming back at night. My medical conditions make night driving difficult, and it sure would be nice to cut some time off that drive.
So expect some upcoming posts where I grumble and gripe about shifting and sorting the accumulation of stuff we have piled around us. Wish me luck!
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