Since we began the humongous effort of relocating our entire clan I have spent hours scrambling my belongings, stuffing the things that I am not consigning to the rapidly growing rubbish heap on the side of my house into boxes while staring in horror as my home transforms itself back into a house.
One of the first things we found out about moving in a bad housing market is that we basically have to buy our way out of our house. Second best does not cut it…the house has to be perfectorwewill be stuck with it. The contractors, of course know this, and they descend like sharks on a blood trail…
I do not care to disclose the disgusting amount of money we have had to invest in this house that we are leaving behind, but suffice it to say that I knew we were in trouble when the basement guy that we had in our living room one night early on gave us a lecture (complete with visual aids) on the reputation of his company and the quality of the materials they use before he would even consider break input his calculator to give us a figure. He also had smelling salts on hand to administer to the shell shocked homeowners after he dropped his bomb.
While the concrete over our new basement floor was drying we packed the kids and headed to Massachusetts to find a place to live, and actually found paradise.
The house we are going to rent (with the informal assumption that we will eventually purchase it) is a grand center hall colonial with a variety of amenities that I never imagined I would have in any place I called my home, such as a wet bar and a jacuzzi in the master bath. The real selling point, however was not what was in the house, but what was outside it. Standing at the far edge of the lawn, Matt and I looked down into the shallow ravine where a tiny brook burbled over the stones, and realized that the only sound other than the song of the stream was the rush of wind through leaves and the clatter of a squirrel sprinting up a tree. This blessed loud silence was a far cry from what we hear when we stand in our yard in Edison.
Matt and I looked at each other, my eyes filled with tears and I knew we were home.
The rest is just logistics.
More to come…..