If there ever is a conversation with my wife Maria that frightens me, it's one that slowly gets around to how much better life might be if we lived in (fill in the blank). The pull-down choices could be; another state, city or house, but they all require multiple trips to Lowes for boxes and tape. Happily, I haven't heard much of this kind of talk, as we will celebrate one year in our W. Commercial Street abode next month.
Note, I said, I haven't heard much of this kind of talk. With Maria, there is always a stream of conscious, speaking out loud, musings about the potential benefits of places and homes in which we do not live.
Let me illustrate. Imagine you are on a cross-country road trip. You see a rest stop and pull over to use the bathrooms and buy a soda from the vending machine. Next to the vending machine is the "you are here" map and next to that is the rack of tri-fold brochures that extoll, things to do, local sites to see and events to attend.
In this rest stop, there is only one brochure. That informative piece of promotion is entitled "Local Real Estate."My wife will pick it up, peruse it and mutter in between sips of her coke, "I could live in that."
She could be referring to a home that barely could qualify as a structure, however, "It has good bones and potential." Then with a sigh, she'll say, "But it will cost too much to get in shape."
In my head, my thoughts are, 'We've ducked a bullet. She won't interrupt the trip and call an agent." She doesn't think I notice, but I do. She put the brochure in her purse.
I'm okay with that because we have many miles to go. There are other new shiny things to glean. This one will go into a dumpster somewhere.
So baring a tree falling on our house or winning the lottery. I suspect we will be on W. Commercial long enough for Eli, our grandson to finish high school and take advantage by parking in our driveway while he's in classes. (The other parking option is much further away.)
And staying here is okay. We have a good landlord. The house fits our needs. The neighborhood is nice. Who knows maybe we will even buy it someday.
From the edge of the City of Appleton, far from the madness of the crowds and Home of the Wisconsin Timber Rattlers, this is Poppa Jeff saying, "Bonjour."
Note, I said, I haven't heard much of this kind of talk. With Maria, there is always a stream of conscious, speaking out loud, musings about the potential benefits of places and homes in which we do not live.
Let me illustrate. Imagine you are on a cross-country road trip. You see a rest stop and pull over to use the bathrooms and buy a soda from the vending machine. Next to the vending machine is the "you are here" map and next to that is the rack of tri-fold brochures that extoll, things to do, local sites to see and events to attend.
In this rest stop, there is only one brochure. That informative piece of promotion is entitled "Local Real Estate."My wife will pick it up, peruse it and mutter in between sips of her coke, "I could live in that."
She could be referring to a home that barely could qualify as a structure, however, "It has good bones and potential." Then with a sigh, she'll say, "But it will cost too much to get in shape."
In my head, my thoughts are, 'We've ducked a bullet. She won't interrupt the trip and call an agent." She doesn't think I notice, but I do. She put the brochure in her purse.
I'm okay with that because we have many miles to go. There are other new shiny things to glean. This one will go into a dumpster somewhere.
So baring a tree falling on our house or winning the lottery. I suspect we will be on W. Commercial long enough for Eli, our grandson to finish high school and take advantage by parking in our driveway while he's in classes. (The other parking option is much further away.)
And staying here is okay. We have a good landlord. The house fits our needs. The neighborhood is nice. Who knows maybe we will even buy it someday.
From the edge of the City of Appleton, far from the madness of the crowds and Home of the Wisconsin Timber Rattlers, this is Poppa Jeff saying, "Bonjour."
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