Surprising Things About Contemplating a Move

It looks as though the Coopers are moving. Our house is under contract and we have found a really nice rental house. We're just trying to lock in all of the details and timing, but we hope to be moved by the time the girls start school on September 8. Which is very soon, but I would start moving right this very second if we could. Our lease doesn't start until September 1, though, so I'm just accumulating boxes in my living room.

This is a difficult time for me.  I think maybe the in-between time of a move--where everything is all about waiting and getting ready-- is difficult for me because I'm an Army brat and there is a certain post-traumatic-stress shimmer to these days. When we moved in my childhood, a move meant a complete upheaval of life as we knew it--new city, new house, new friends, new school.  That's not the case now, since we're just moving a few miles away, but try telling that to the little girl who lives in my head.

Anyway, as I contemplate leaving behind this house that has been our home for the past three-and-a-half years, one of the most surprising things is how completely UNemotionally attached I am to it. Don't get me wrong, I've really enjoyed living in this house. It's the fanciest house I've ever lived in. I guess I'm just not that fancy of a person, though, because I've always felt more at home in houses that were a little quirky. The rental house is both fancy AND quirky, so I already feel at home in it.

I believe that houses have their own personalities, in a way. Those are probably informed by the events that go on while we're living in them, and as such, this hasn't been the happiest house for the Coopers. The transition from Texas to New York was pretty brutal--kind of like suddenly moving to Mars.  When you combine culture shock with a dose of chronic pain and the inevitable losses when children start growing up --well, I'm really hopeful that the rental house is going to be a happier house than this one. Maybe our my growing pains will be less overwhelming.

The thing I'm going to miss most about living in THIS house is that the property backs to a large county park --which has nothing to do with the house itself. I'm going to miss the splendor of the seasons played out in those woods. I'm going to miss the wild, unbridled joy of my dogs as they raced along the trails.

Looking forward, I took some pictures of the new house the last time we visited. (As always, you can click to embiggen.)

This is the kitchen.  Need I say more?

Well, actually, that is ONE of the kitchens. It turns out that the cabana has a kitchen, too.

Coop standing in the cabana kitchen, which is almost as nice as my current kitchen!

Because, yes, the new house has a pool and a cabana.  We haven't actually seen the pool yet because it's covered and looks like this:

Part of the pool and the cabana.

But it's the real reason we're renting this house. Because we're from Texas and in denial of the fact that one month after the lease starts, we will no longer be able to swim because it's NOT HEATED. Coop is researching a work-around.

In the event that he is unable to find one, we have another option. The rental house has a hot tub. I mean, it has a hot tub inside of it. Look:

(Hot tub to the left of Jane, (10.) Jane is to the left of Ana, (13.)

See? It's a little quirky. Most houses don't have a hot tub right off of the kitchen. 

So, now the work begins. We're packing up and trying to cull through our possessions, as the new house doesn't have as much storage as our current house. It's a good, if painful, exercise in downsizing.

And we're waiting.

Which, as you all know, I really, really, really LOVE and am really, really, really good at.