Our quaint little 1940's stone cottage that we painfully and endearingly renovated is on the market. This is a bitter sweet moment for us.
This home knew the pre-children Tim and Janna...in fact, it got a glimpse of the pre-marriage version. It is the place we brought two babies home from the hospital, it saw the passing of our great danes sweet old man Hayden and prima donna Ashland. This has been the place of first steps and the venue for many a casual get together and now it is time for us to move on. We will be leaving behind a box filled with memories, triumphs and love. Hopefully all of that will be extended to next person to call this place home.
We used to be that couple that lived in the eclectic neighborhood. Daily we are reminded why we choose this hood as our home; the streets are curvy, the trees huge, the architecture is outstanding, diversity is brimming over and it looks like no other place in the world. The most extraordinary of all, are the neighbors. They are real people not just people that drive into their garages, close the door and then you never see them again. This giant group of people seem to co-exist in this surreal world where race, finances, politics, religion and opinions are all drastically different but everyone is united by a place.
Along the way we became parents and our eclectic neighborhood has now become a symbol of an outrageous fuel bill and commute to work, a horrible school district, crime that scares us and a house that the 4 of us no longer fit into.
Moving on is a hard thing to do. Logically, it is the right thing for our family. But my inner being pleads, "Why does simplifying have to mean loosing more of our identity?" It saddens me that reducing our driving costs and finding a home in a good school district means moving to the suburbs. This internal battle reminds me of a book I read The Geography of Nowhere . It describes how the ordinary places where we live, work and play should be filled with inspiration. Instead we have to travel to those types of places and live in a monotonouse uninspiring world, or might I say subdivision.
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