Can I just say that I am a home-owner?
I figure if I write it here, that will help make it a little bit more of a reality. Right?
M and I like to play that game where you think back to when you met that person you married… and then you mentally trace all of the steps that you took to reach the place where you are now.
It never gets old, all of that retracing. I know you play the game too.
So we start back in Japan circa 2002 when we were both young and supple. All fresh-faced and wide-eyed at living abroad.
Flash-forward to 2005, M and I getting married in Florida lake-side (possible gator-sighting in back-drop).
Skip one more year (that year where we were apart as I couldn’t legally reside in the States as I didn’t have my citizenship sorted out) until we hit 2006.
Now that’s where things start to happen.
The first year I moved to Florida, we lived in a teeny one-bedroom apartment in MetroWest. At that time, it was still a nice neighbourhood. And just what out-of-staters think Florida should look like. Right on a golf course, palm trees everywhere, a pool. Ideal.
So small. Although, compared to what we had lived in in Japan, it was a palace. A PALACE. That same year we got Chewie, the needy, love-driven, attention seeking, ‘I hate everyone but you’, angry, super-licky, pain in the ass Chihuahua. That we love.
I still remember the first night we took him for a walk. He was extra little then. We walked him around the complex and just happened to walk near a storm grate.
M said to me, “Do you think he knows not to walk over that?? He won’t fall in, right?”
Me: “Of course he knows and he totally won’t”.
And then he totally fell through the grate. Those little chihuahua legs are not meant to be walking over things like that.
Suddenly that area of town became a hot-bed of crime. Drugs and prostitutes, man… and Jimmy Dime-Bags, our neighbour, smoking pot on the stairs every morning.
And I wanted a baby, an apartment with a hallway (or at least one other room) and somewhere that wasn’t full of prostitutes. And on we moved to Hunters Creek.
Such a good move. Much closer to the parents. And clearly my biological clock liked it too, as I instantly became pregnant the moment we moved in.
And we have been in this apartment for 2 years. And now have a one year old son plus our dog-child as well…
Now is the time for first time homeowners to make a move. And so we did. And are heading over to Lake Nona…
So as we drove to our new townhouse after closing this morning, these are things that ran through my head. We pulled up in front of our building, the birds of paradise were beautiful at our front steps and it was raining lightly.
M and I stepped out of his car, got out our new key on its orange puffer-fish key chain and opened that door. We stepped in to glorious uncirculated air and flesh coloured walls. A few carpet stains, a lack of blinds, some ceiling fans from 1987 and a few other little things to fix. It was gorgeous.
From a one-room Japanese flat, to ghetto prostitute-filled neighbourhood to country bliss in Lake Nona…
How amazing our travels through life have been.