For the past three years I have been trying to move.
It’s like a sickness for me. When I feel hemmed in or bored I start daydreaming of a new place.
Our current rental is great. About 20-30 minutes to most of the places we want to go. We have chickens, a large garden, a woodlot for the stove and friendly horses as neighbors. Our kitchen isn’t big or modern. It’s fully functional. There is cold storage. There is space to be opened up in the nooks and cranies. There are minor fixes and fiddles to be done. We are a family of seven sharing a bathroom. It can be dicey but on the whole it’s okay.
I like to tell myself that the downside of our home is the busy road out the front. It just keeps getting busier. And it will continue to liven up these next few years what with the new commuter rail station going in and the townhouses infesting in the edge of town. Add to that the possibility of building restrictions being lifted on the land we are living on. Sigh. Progress. Sometimes it’s great, other times ill considered. The road also makes me nervous because it makes other people nervous. Which makes me sensitive which makes me tetchy which makes me…..you get the point. There is a great bonus to this travelled Canadian road. It is plowed. It is plowed thoroughly. A picture book of Canadian efficiency. And that in February, March or late October is nothing to snub your nose at.
I need to tell myself we are close while being far enough. I need to let myself love this house with it’s basement music room, spacious laundry area and workshop for that new business startin’ Husband of mine. Have I mentioned that in our bedroom I have a sewing table and huge closet for my supplies? Fancy.
Moving isn’t going to diminish the discontent I feel. There is no one perfect home or place. I’ve lived in many, many rentals. As a child, before my own children and now with a brood. Our current home is in my top two.
Discontent is a roving infection that hits in the sensitive places. Where you feel like you have failed. I could do better. Everyone else thinks I could do better. I have to stop using that yardstick.
inspired by these lyrics:
You treat distraction like it’s a religion
With a rattlesnake step in your rhythm
We do the best with the souls we’ve been given
Because you know we’re nothing special to them
We’re going some place they’ve already been
Trying to make sense of what they call wisdom
And this riff raff ain’t laughing with them
-Walls by Beck