When I moved into my current home, it was because it was within my budget and in a nice, family oriented neighbourhood. It was a mess, but eventually as time moved on, I had the help I needed to fix it up. (My story is HERE)
Today? My roof no longer leaks. My windows are new. And there are no toilets falling through the floor to be seen.
I want for nothing. Because our house is sound, and I’m not having to run after it with every tool imaginable like before with new water leaks spewing like outdoor fountains, we are safe.
Safe. That’s a good word. I feel safe and cozy in our fixed up home.
This can easily be my forever home. And it may. Actually, I was going to just deem it that and call it a day.
Because now that our home is safe and sound with all major repairs done, we can go travelling without huge worries. We are in a good place.
But then you. YOU.
I found you shortly after I moved in. I went for a walk and there you were, with your wrap around veranda and little barn out back and creek running along the country road. And then there’s that outbuilding by the road… I could use it as a place to host junk sales.
Anyway, you were too expensive and too much work and intimidating. I didn’t even know how to fix a toilet at the time.
But now… with a little experience in behind me, you became available again.
I wanted to forget you so badly.
But there you were tonight. Again. Taunting me as you seem to do. Your babbling creek and birds tweeting in the trees drew me in once again. I wanted to sit on the side of the road and just take you in, but the road was too wet. So I stood. Wishing you could be mine.
When I walked by you, I heard myself say, “I’d give up 1000 Hawaii visits if you could be mine.” I shocked myself.
I want to forget you. I want to move on. But… I had to do it… I went home and looked at your new price.
Over 1 million.
Jaw drop…. seriously?
I clearly have my answer.
Was this tease meant to keep me off your property and realize how fabulous I already have it? Maybe.
Yet… you did it again.
Can you please just move away so I can’t be tempted any longer? Because the only way I could ever have you at this rate is if I won the lottery. And since I don’t buy tickets, chances are slim I shall ever win. 🙂
Plus, you’re too much for me. I’ve had a farm before this place. And for the few years we were there, it was FABULOUS. But today, I know that would be just too much for me to care for. I’m going to write about my farm experience one day, because I think lots of us dream of having one. It was an eye opener.
Yet there you sit, with your 3 sided wrap around porch, and overhanging willow trees with a mountain backdrop, waving me in yet again.
What does this really mean? Why can’t I just resign to be fine where I am and remain content?
Well… I guess deep down I really do know what it means. I’m looking or waiting for something… even if I don’t know what it is. My roots will always be on farmland, which is how I grew up. I think once you’re a farmer’s daughter, you remain one at heart.
I want to love where I am. Without dropping serious coin to make it sing. Is it possible? I’d like to think so.
Something tells me you’re a test for something. Am I suppose to keep working hard towards something I don’t yet have? Or is there a lesson just around the corner, proving I’m right where I need to be all along?
No idea. None.
I want to love where I am. So please… hide your For Sale sign when I walk past you next time?
That dream farm isn’t listening very well… 🙂
What do you think this means? That I have a certain place stuck in my head, but I know it’s not a good fit? Do you go through this too? Do you think someone who continues to feel this way can ever make peace with where they are?