On the Road Again

I was going to say something like: It seems we barely get settled these days before we move again...  But, that's not exactly true.  You know that insulation that you can spray into cracks -- and it puffs up, expanding into every possible nook and cranny of space?  Well, that's us.  We aren't into a house two weeks before all the pictures are hung; the humidifier's hidden away; the muffin papers have their own little cupboard corner, the construction paper and colored pencils are stationed; the lint bunnies are multiplying under the beds; and marbles are in the heating vents.

And I won't even go into how thoroughly we occupy the barn.  Let's just say: don't go in there.

But, alas...  (and here I really do insert a heavy sigh)  We find that it's time to leave our cozy little log house.  And, oh boy, am I gonna miss it. ( I am spoiled forever by this great room!) But just plain old prudence is twisting our arms and we have no choice but to find cheaper digs.  We'd originally intended to buy this house, but, as is the story in so many places, our landlord is upside-down on his loan and requires an over-the-market sum -- both for the purchase and the rent of this house -- and he can't lower his price. And, same as most places these days, real estate prices in our valley are shrinking with the pinpricks of a bazillion foreclosures, and rentals are still quite low for the most part.  So, in short -- though we love this house and love being a walk to church, we're not millionaires and can't just throw money away.

This is not the actual house...

Plus, after researching and watching and praying for a while,  we found a house only ten minutes away, with five bedrooms, a bazillion outbuildings, on fifteen irrigated acres, with lots of big shade trees, next to an orchard and winery -- for literally half the rental price.

So, we're moving.  How could we not?

We have a month to move less than ten minutes away, so it's going to be death by a thousand cuts a nice, slow, organized move.

Um.  Yeah.

But, it's all good.  The landlady has given us free reign to do whatever we like with the house, short of tearing down walls -- and I've already got a notebook full of ideas and paint chips.  Call me a glutton for punishment, but I'm actually looking forward to rolling up my sleeves and getting to work.  The old girl (the house, not the landlady!) is 109 years old and is less conventional and certainly less convenient than the house we're in now -- and it's old and drafty and somewhat awkward.  But it has lots of character. 

We should fit right in.

 I hope you'll join in on the fun of the makeover and move in.  I'll be needing a cheering section!  And it should be interesting. The Christmas decorations get packed this weekend, and the "slow, organized move" begins right after that.   I'll keep ya posted!