Argh.
Tom and I drove out to the gorgeous Lake yesterday and picnicked in our park. That was the good part.
While we sat there dreamily munching and gazing out over the endless milky-blue water, Tom told me he'd asked the big-wig company boss about a certain job Out West, two-thousand miles away. One which would begin this summer.
That was the bad part.
Tom is thinking about moving again. Even though our house is far from ready to sell. Even though my parents, after 12 years of non-flying-anywhere, are finally flying out to visit us in October. Even though the couple who introduced Tom and me are also planning to visit us that same month (also from California).
Even though I am still madly in love with my dream-come-true, Mayberry town. Event though I waited for 12 whole years to decorate and play in those two big wonderful rooms upstairs--and have only had them just two little months now. And felt happy-and-satisfied-out-my-mind those short months, too.
Oh, I'd been preparing myself emotionally for an Eventual Move, but in a rather Scarlett O'Hara way: "I'll think about that next year!"
But now Tom's 'gypsy blood' (as it has been called by some) is stirred-up and raring to go. And now I must pry my heart's fingers from this Land of My Dreams one-by-one. Otherwise it hurts too much to rip them all off in one fell swoop.
Oh, not that he'll be taking that job he'd inquired about. When we came home yesterday the Big Boss called and, although he sounded like Tom would be a good candidate for the job, he did encourage him to look online at the prices of real estate in that area of Washington state. As it is, Tom would have to take a pay cut for this dream job--which in itself, isn't such a bad thing because when you find a real dream job, you almost feel like paying someone to be able to work there. So we looked online and ouch! Real estate is four times more expensive than it is here and well, with that cut in pay--no way.
So Tom has calmed down--for now. But still he is looking. And still my time in this dream place is on thin ice (a play on words because a major reason Tom wants to move is because of the winter ice).
Last night we ordered home delivery of pizza and chicken fingers and earlier we bought chocolate ice cream for dessert. Comfort food for Tom because this latest chance to leave has not worked out and because his wife is being a big, disappointed grouch about the whole idea of moving this year. And comfort food for me because Grace has not yet arrived with her suitcases of Courage and Hope to help me face this huge move. And comfort, too, because only recently have I come to dearly love this house as I should have all along (note to myself--next time, get a whole lot happier a whole lot sooner with what you have).
When we got married we married for better and for worse. This morning with a pizza-and-ice-cream hangover, it feels like worse.
But God is still good. And I can still pray that only when the right time comes to move--only after Grace arrives--will things work out. With Grace I can do anything--leap tall buildings with a single bound and all that... With Grace, this move will turn out to be a very good thing after all is said and done.
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