Morgan, Sophie’s BF, was at our house during the last round of tornado warnings. While the girls were squished in my closet-turned-office-turned-safe-place, I headed outside to take pictures of the swirly sky. “You’re not much of a worrier, are you?” Morgan commented. Funny how I don’t worry about tornadoes ripping the roof of the house, but do worry what people think of me. I’d say it’s a 6 on a scale of one to ten.
With the very quick sale of our home last week (on the market for five days with four offers), we were faced with two choices: find another house fast, or find a place to rent and breathe. I am fond of breathing.
The only problem I foresee is that we haven’t rented since the beginning of our marriage when we lived in a two-bedroom duplex with ugly green carpet. Twenty-two years later and I’m assuming all rentals look the same. Besides that, I never dreamed of being here after trying to do all the right stuff. My expectation was that we’d be moving into our dream home where we would retire in years to come and I’d eventually rock a grandkid or two. (Note to self: lower the expectations and chance for disappointment is much less.)
I am the one who talked my husband into renting (remind me of that in the days to come should I need it) because I’m not one to rush; I don’t even like being late to church. Another thing I don’t like is debt. While we’ve maintained a mostly debt free lifestyle (apart from a mortgage and that stupid car Regi bought but has since sold), it feels like a plane has crash- landed right into the second act of this important play called Life. As small business owners, we’ve carried around our last remaining business loan for a few years now. Then the KGB (thanks for the perfect description, Dave Ramsey) sent us a hefty bill that they want paid yesterday. Living with that kind of debt is like carrying a ball and chain with you everywhere you go.
Regi immediately started looking for a rental and found a place within a day. After seeing it online however, I gave it two thumbs down and asked him to look for something normal. However, it’s difficult to say no to my husband, sweet as he is. I obliged to simply look.
When I sat in a chair on the front porch and looked over my front yard, I was hooked.
We will be living in a cabin on 22 acres. Of course we’re not renting the 22 acres, we just get to enjoy it. And no, I’m not simply giving the house the affectionate name of cabin. I’m talking made-of-wood with a fireplace that doesn’t have a switch. Yes, a cabin. Complete with a front porch view of the stables and horses, the pond, garden, and the two other homes on the property. We even get to rent Sable as well, the oversized Lab with something-something mixed in who bounds over like a goofy elementary kid every time we show up. She’s the big dog we’ve always promised (I sure hope she likes little dogs).
Could it get any better? We’ll see. I feel a journey leading somewhere that is going to open my eyes to things I haven’t seen in a while. I hope you’ll come along for the ride.