Homeward Bound #1

Homeward Bound

 Winter view from the back door of my previous home

I got off work and raced home because I just had to do something there. Not sure what, I realized as I pushed the front door shut behind me and locked it. My eyes adjusted to the dim light. I opened a second blind where sunlight could actually filter in. 

Ahhh… home.

I didn’t kick off my sandals or skip to the fridge for a frosty Dr. Pepper. I dumped my bags on the dining room table before I looked around. The mail was stacked on the counter—just as I left it, and a pair of flip-flops had been abandoned in the living room?

There was nothing to do but smile and say to myself, “Welcome home!”

Welcome to Homeward Bound. I’ll be sharing tips, techniques and pointers that just might help you happily greet yourself when you return to your home, no matter where you live or why you live there.

If you’ve followed my blog very much you already know home is super, right-near-the-top, important to me. Because I’m planning on sharing the Homeward Bound journey I’m embarking on with you in my blog you’ll get to peek into little corners of my heart and soul as my husband and I build a new home. At least that is the plan. Building, that is. 

This will be home # 13 for us. Wow, if that isn’t lucky, I don’t know what is! Actually, I have almost zero tolerance for superstition, so I have no worries about the number. I kind of like it in fact. I loved being a 13-year old. It was awesome! My first teenage year! I was still clumsy, naïve and all kinds of arms and legs and giggles, but I also had lots of fun and grew up by a few degrees. 

Home # 13 won’t be anything like those teenager years of innocence and inexperience. We had already advanced beyond that stage before building our residence # 7, but of course, we hadn’t learned everything, and we still haven’t, which at times worries me. We expect we’ll be smacked over the head a few times with unexpected disasters and surprises of the unpleasant kind here and there as we go forward. But we also hope for lots of fun and many rewards as we venture toward our new home. 

Come along and join me for the journey if you’d like! But first, I need to answer the front door. Um, my only door, actually.

Q. Why are you moving? Didn’t you just build a home, like 1 year ago, or some insanely recent time like that?

A. I think I recognize you. Don’t you usually interview my adorable niece? What are you doing here asking me nosy questions?

Q. I’m asking the questions, not you. It’s my job. Besides, she skipped town so you’re my next victim. Just answer me, please. Can I come in and get comfortable first?

A. I can tell you where she is. At least basically. She’s on vacation, like a thousand miles away. Maybe you should take a vacation too and go visit her.

Q. She thinks you’re sweet. Her favorite aunt, actually. Did she get her spunk from you, or are you copying her? You’re not good at it, you know. I can sit here, right?

A. Sure. Make yourself at home. But I’m pretty sure she has other favorite aunts. I have 3 sisters and 7 sisters-in-law, and that’s just my side of the family, so I’m basically # 8, or something like that on the favorite list. But yes, I adore her, so I’m copying her, but it’s only because she’s your favorite person to spy on. It that okay?

Q. Whatevs. So why are you moving?

A. Personal reasons. And it’s done. Completed. We’ve moved already. New address. New mailbox. The whole works.

Q. What is this place called where you’re living? 

A. My husband lovingly calls it our little “Hobbit Hole,” but I call it our cute little….

Q. Ah-hemm, cute?

A. Yes. Look around. Cute! Right? 

Q. Don’t you believe in hanging pictures on your walls? Where is all your fancy furniture? Why is there a paper plate on your table? You’re eating on paper now? I thought you had a reputation of loving china and dishes and everything beautiful and breakable.

A. Look at this scar and tell me if you think I’ll ever eat on glass, sharp, and killer-instinct dishes again! I adore paper now.

Q. Eww. Ouch. Okay. Next question. Bare walls?

A. I headed to D.I.’s to buy a really colorful tacky picture—you know, they have a whole room full of those—but I got sidetracked when I saw that basket. Cool, eh?

Q. You found tacky, all right.

A. Are we done yet?

Q. Why did you move?

A. *Sigh* It was all about the parking. We left parking hassles to enter parking hell. We left parking dysfunctions to embrace parking disasters.

Q. Are you nuts? Why would anyone do that?

A. You nailed it. We’re nuts. That, and my hubby wanted a workshop downstairs instead of upstairs. But we had no downstairs, just a creepy-crawly spider-infested crawlspace. And he wanted a yard to putter in. And he wanted no mosquitos. But of course, that’s not possible.

Q. You can pick up a putter at the golf store any time….

A. He has plenty of putters. He loves to golf and collects them. Maybe he needed more space for those too. Anyway, we sold our cute little house and moved here. Just like that. Moved. Gone.

Q. You sound sad. 

A. Is that a questions?

Q. Elaborate.

A. I’m not sad. I consider this is an adventure. I’m getting old and there just aren’t very many adventures left in life that I haven’t already done. Like how many times can I skydive or go over Niagara Falls in a barrel?

Q. Have you done either of those?

A. No. I pursue more exciting hobbies, like build houses. Either from the ground up, or from what I find inside a pre-owned one once I’m handed a key and step inside. I’m a dreamer and a creator. That’s what my type does for excitement.

Q. What dreams do you have for your new home? I presume you’re not talking about this little um...?

A. My husband gets everything he wants. That’s the plan. Even if he hints he wants something, that’s all it takes (finger snaps), and he gets it.

Q. Wow, is that like going back to the dark ages when women had no rights? Are you telling me you’re bowing down and backing up and keeping quiet and submitting and….

A. *Laughter* Are you kidding me? Seriously? You think I’d do any of that? Didn’t I just tell you I’m a dreamer and creator? I’m also a schemer. That is the subtle silent partner to the other two qualities. Where did you go to school? If you’re interviewing me I’m assuming you’ve got some communication degree or something like that, but you don’t understand the human language, it seems. When you create, you have to think and plan and set goals and determine boundaries. In essence, you scheme. You always have an end in mind right from the start.

Go straight to Google and you’ll discover the first definition for scheme is “a large-scale systematic plan or arrangement for attaining some particular object or putting a particular idea into effect.” 

My sweet husband ousted me. Go ahead, look up ousted too. According to Google it means “to drive out or expel someone from a position or place.” So, as I was saying, my dear husband ousted me from our last home and I swear on a stack of Bibles ten-feet tall that won’t happen again. So, if he gets exactly what he wants, right down to another ten-thousand square feet of concrete in the backyard, a few extra power outlets in the garage, and a travel trailer sewer clean-out in the driveway, I’ll get to stay. Is that proper scheming, or what? Now tell me, does that sound like silent submission? I’m sure the term subversive might hit closer to the truth than gorilla warfare, if you want to get technical about it. I’m a sweet creator, after all.

Q. Umm, I have another appointment. Thanks for sharing your, um… your thoughts and feelings with me. I’m sure my readers will be… umm, entertained by your comments.

A. Sit down. I’m not done here. You see, I win, no matter how many boxes I have to pack and unpack, or how many months I live in my cute little condo with parking problems. I get to do what I do best here, and then I get to repeat it and do it again in my new home. Two birds with one stone, as the saying goes, except I get to create two homes with one-ish move. What’s not to love about that? See? I win/win! 

Q. If you say so. When are you moving, exactly, because honestly, this is a little dark and dreary without any décor and they might send me back for a follow up interview and I’d rather not come…

A. Hopefully on a day without snow. Or make that a week or month without snow. Or freezing winds. Both make moving miserable.

Q. I meant date. Like next week? Next month?

A. *Hahaha* You are so optimistic. I love it! The plans are at the city as we speak, just waiting for approval. After that our builder wants a fat check before he’ll send in a backhoe. Hopefully that all happens before next month. 

Q. Can you give us a sneak-peek at what you’re planning for your new home?

A. Like a teaser?

Q. Sure.

A. I’m honoring the budget, I think. I hope.

Q. Most people could say the same thing. Give me something juicy.

A. We’re adding a deck out back? Is that good enough? Something similar to the one we had in Draper. 

Q. I never visited your Draper home, so I have no clue what that means. 

A. It makes me want to cry with joy, that’s what it means. There will be a seating area outside the dining room and another one off the master bedroom. Maybe we’ll squeeze a pergola out of the budget, but I doubt it. I’m dreaming of warm summer afternoons sipping icy Dr. Pepper as I watch my little Grands play in the yard. I’m investing in how we live, not what features we have or where we live. I’m creating a home for people, not for show or tell. I’m scheming how to incorporate my favorite words: Love, Comfort, Joy, and dozens more. I could go on, but glancing at your watch is a pretty good hint you need to leave.

Q. If you had a clock on your wall I could check that instead. Where are all your clocks, anyway? Don’t you hoard clocks?

A. Have you heard of clock prison? Oh relax, will you? You're safe here. It’s usually called a Storage Unit? Ours is packed to the ceiling and the outer layer looks like moving one step inside would be like entering a mine field. So, yeah, my clocks, pictures—everything—are being held hostage, more or less. Anyway, it’s been fun visiting with you. What is it my niece likes to say? Oh yeah, something like, “I’ve got to rush off to do the laundry.” Except, I think I actually need to empty the dishwasher. Gotta go!

 Q. Can I drop in later for an update? I kind of think you might be scheming something awesome, and you’re kind of, almost, sort of, interesting-ish… at times.

A. Whatevs.

Q. (Muffled through closed door) “Thanks for the… Ouch! Is that a blackberry vine I just torn my skirt on?”

Wheww! She’s gone. Nosy person! Oh, crap. She’s peeking thought my open blind and eating my precious blackberries! I’ll duck down and crawl away—act like I don’t see her and her blackberry piracy!

Anyway, like I was saying, I’m Homeward Bound. Join me for the journey if you’d like. I’ll share concepts of home, some of our adventures, a few decorating and lifestyle tips, and probably a few sad, frustrating and funny stories. Hang on tight and buckle up as we start another crazy ride!

My hubby standing in front of our future homesite.