I had no idea it had been 9 days since I’d updated. After my last entry the house hunting progressed into us pairing with a realtor friend my daughter knows, and the process began. From there I spent days searching for and uploading our life in documents. If you’ve house hunted you know those first steps and it rattled me giving it all up. This is probably the only time in my life I’m grateful for the digital age, it certainly saved me running around like the old days. In my first marriage my children’s father and myself built our home in Maine when we were young and had no clue, it feels like that was a less stressful experience. I’m sure I’ve forgotten much of the specifics but I do remember it only took 8 weeks from start to finish for the house to be built.
We left Florida 16 or so years ago to move back to Maine. We got stuck in New Hampshire along the way north when my husband landed a job here during those recession years. Work is work and there was little to be had then but we needed money and a place to live. We had resided in the sunshine state briefly for four years and it is not at all what it appears. Actual Florida is dirty, crowded, high in crime, and there is litter scattered everywhere. We lived in an upscale area, but it too had big problems. The state is a totally flat peninsula composed of gritty sand that for years developers have shipped sod (rolls of dirt with pre-grown grass) and palm trees into the state by truck to make it appear more lush and scenic. I don't hate Florida but I do dislike the fake image it portrays.
It’s a nice place to visit, but I’d never live there again. I remember waking up mornings and outside there was always a thin coating of sticky dust and black soot on everything no matter where we were. Sinkholes in Florida are the norm both from over development and much of the state sits atop caves and springs that attract scuba divers who explore them. The weather is extreme and being caught out in four major hurricanes one after another with one tearing our neighborhood apart, I had had enough that final year.
I’m 63 years old and have waited what feels like forever to “go home.” New Hampshire is pretty but without state tax it offers little to nothing for residents in services especially the older population. The state also has no medical programs, unlike neighboring Massachusetts and Maine. This has always been a sore spot for me. It’s like the end to a long redundant move, I was born in Maine and it’s where my last chapter will be spent. I’m hopeful we can find a house on its own property instead of being forced to look at a manufactured one sitting in a mobile home park on a leased spot. The idea of purchasing a home then paying rent for the ground it’s on is ridiculous. I refer to mobile (manufactured) homes as "tornado toys." It will also be nice to live closer to the grandchildren we never see.
My elderly landlady recently lost her cat. I had no idea until her adult son appeared at our door and asked for permission to bury the deceased pet in our vegetable garden. I was taken back and should not have had to explain food and pet remains do not belong near each other to a 55 year old man. His reasoning for the inquiry was due to him being out of shape and he couldn’t dig down far. The property is large and out back there is a pet cemetery of hers from years prior. They do not belong anywhere else, certainly not in a vegetable garden. My pets have always been cremated.
In the end he decided on another area easily accessible, right under our kitchen window beside our flowers and stairs into our living space. At the end of the day it’s his mothers property, approaching her asking to please put kitty elsewhere only made her raise her voice in anger at me. Hopefully the next incoming heatwave will not aggravate the situation nor will we open the window above the spot. Last week my husband replanted his squash plants in the same area in hopes of salvaging them from animals feasting on everything. Between the cat below the ground and the hungry woodchuck above ground I’ve lost interest in eating anything grown in any garden completely this year.
Though we are in the beginning stages of finding a new home to relocate to, having help from the realtor took a weight off my shoulders in many ways. I need to start going through the accumulation of years of belongings, and rid us of much clutter. In the end it will make a move much easier. In the past we did our own relocating by renting a U-Haul and doing our own packing, loading, and unloading. Here we are a decade and more older and there is no way that will happen. We will happily hire a local company to bare that brunt. Regardless of how it appears, I am a minimalist. If I haven't used something for years it's going out to the dumpster, photos and keepsakes not included of course. I used to be sentimental and attach a memory to the silliest items but life in the unpredictable southern weather and having to evacuate once every year there in natural disasters changed all that for me. I learned that less was more.
This covered bridge in Maine was a big part of mine and my children's childhood. As a teenager my friends and I used to climb up inside it and jump through a window and into the river below. Later when my children were old enough they would swing from a rope under it summers into the water. The bridge itself has been replaced a few times but it still holds its magic. Many great memories were created there and I can't wait to live close enough to go visit it again. It's been 23 years since I have lived in Maine, and it's long past time to finally return home. Here’s hoping, right?
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