The credit for this post goes to Ann Coleman at muddlingthroughmymiddleage.com. I’m not exactly stealing the idea, but as soon as I read Ann’s post about Moving On, it struck such a chord with me that I knew I had to tell my somewhat similar story.
My husband thinks that I’m a nostalgic mess. After feeling affronted, I realize that he is right.
our my dream house in 1999-2000. Sometime around then. Don’t get me wrong, he really liked the house, too, but I loved it. Loved it, loved it, loved it.
It is on the side of a mountain, no neighbors in sight during the summer, no noise except the howling of coyotes at night. We have seen mother deer nursing their fawns, have had minx in the backyard and one time a black bear stroll down the driveway.
This house is a large colonial which was good since together we have four children, and at various times my two daughters moved in with their infants and lived with us until they were back on their feet.
We also had two dogs and with four acres, they could run around without leashes and stayed put. I always said that the top part our “yard,” which was a long, steep slope to a large mowed area, provided a great view for the dogs that was like watching a large screen HD TV.
Then a family tragedy struck and we had to sell the house and move. One does what is necessary in situations like this, and we had to sell. There was no question nor other option. Family comes first.
But I was devastated. We sold the house in 2010? Around then. Periodically, we drive by and it looked sort of the same, except the yard work, fence work, rock walls and garden that we (mostly my husband) built and took such pride in, started to fall by the wayside and weren’t tended the way we wanted. Oh well.
Then, a couple of years ago, it started to look deserted. No curtains on the windows, no toys are cars in the driveway. I checked around and everyone who knew the new owners said they lived there.
Well a couple of weeks ago, we saw that the yard looked extra-unkempt and the house was obviously empty. I went up and looked in the windows. There was a sign in a window from 2 years ago that the water was shut off to winterize the house. Turns out the house is in foreclosure.
My first reaction was YAY!!!! We can buy it back!!!!
My husband’s reaction was ARE YOU INSANE?
Nostalgia, nostalgia, nostalgia.
All of our kids are adults, retirement is in the not-so-distant future and we are down-sizing from our already down-sized condo.
And I want to buy again our four bedroom huge colonial on four acres in the woods. Yes, yes I do.
I know it’s a pipe dream, but it is much cheaper now that it is in foreclosure. But more expensive than a pension and Social Security can justify. There is no way that we can turn back the clock and move back to this home. My dream home where we spent nine nostalically perfect years.
Shhhhhh…….don’t tell my husband, but I check the listing every day and drive by the house every week.
I’m a semi-realistic nostalgic mess.