Friday, April 06, 2007
Picturing The Next Place
Okay, you've probably realized I'm already dreaming about my next home. Being a lover of old houses, it doesn't even require an impending move for me to do that! But here's the curious thing... For years I've sat here hoping that, when we move, it will be to a rambling Victorian or a huge Craftsman or one like the house above.
But lately I'm becoming more practical (for which Tom is grateful, especially since, where we're considering moving, they're not exactly handing-out houses for free). No, now I'm pondering more about the size of the yard, rather than the size of the house and these are the types of houses where my dreams have shifted:
It feels strange to study myself evolving like this...to feel pulled back to the small cottage-type houses of my grandparents'... to want to return to our earlier years of, well, struggle. You know, the good kind of making-the most-of-what-you-had-because-that's-all-you-had-to-work-with. That type of fondly-recalled struggle. Which, ok, is great that I'm desiring, too, because although this job is a promotion for Tom, at first he'll be making less money. Sometimes you must make those kinds of choices and believe they are the best and right ones.
And yet it feels refreshing to change, too. I mean, who wants to be, at 48, just the same as she was at 25? Who wants to remain that unchanged, that same ol', same ol' and still grasping old plans, dreams and beliefs from an immature head?
Well, not me, anyway. This becoming someone new has me too fascinated and curious and anticipating all the yet-to-come differences in the years ahead. Who knows how wildly different I'll feel and be at 58?