Gone are my hardwood floors, my large front and back porches, my arbors, and my gardens. My new front porch is a good size for a little house. I have a nice deck out back, but there’s linoleum in the kitchen and bathrooms and I’m back to wall-to-wall carpet.
Gone is my country view on all four sides. My new neighborhood is full of well-maintained little houses and lawns, but there are lots of dogs and kids and basketball hoops.
Gone are my big spare bedrooms. My new house has one spare room with a queen-size bed that has to share its space with Mike’s desk. The smallest bedroom is my new office.
Gone is the three-car Morton barn building, the three-compartment out-building, and the potting shed. My new house has a utility shed in the back yard and a single-car garage.
Gone is Michael's weekly three-hour two-acre mowing, now he’s looking at a half hour … maybe … to cut the sweet little back and front yard.
Gone is my five-minute commute to work. Thirty minutes might get me there on time … at least for now.
Gone are my spacious bathrooms. I think I can turn around in both new bathrooms. I think.
Gone is my pantry, my laundry room. Now they are one in the same.
Gone are the six fireplaces, old wood mantels, and unique wooden walls and ceilings. My new house has one wood-burning fireplace and beautiful stonework, but the walls are drywall, the ceilings – popcorn. But clean. Clean is good, right?
Gone is my country kitchen. Hello range that needs replaced, and pink Formica countertops.
But halleluiah, also GONE is the monster mortgage payment. Ginormous heating bills. Stressing over the economy. Time to make changes, sacrifices, and move forward. To a new dream. A new adventure, as my sister put it. A move back to Ohio in five years, to be near our children, grandchildren, and to build a new house. A new house that’s every bit as beautiful as the Farmhouse. Our current temporary, smaller, cheaper house is part of making that dream come true.
I’m grateful for it.
A Southern Fried Woman moving north? Yep. You heard it here first. At some point in the next few years, this southern woman will head north. The “South,” however, never leaves you. It remains in your heart no matter where you hang your hat. For me, as I grow older, what’s more important than my geographical location … is my family.
And that’s all I need to say.
Blessings to you and yours.