Whoa. Has it really been this long since I blogged? I guess it has been. I think when you’re unhappy or too focused on something, that you actually quit doing the things you love. Enough said. That’s what happened to me. I slowed way down on yoga. I quit blogging entirely. I focused on where I wanted to be and what I needed to do. I said it out loud to people that I knew. The universe finally dropped it in my lap. Sort of. Not without my help of course. It has been exhausting.
I think I have a ten year attention span for things. Things like jobs. Things like relationships. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m done trying to figure it out. All I know is that where I was – was where I didn’t need to spend the rest of my life. Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t a bad, dark, evil place. I just knew in my heart I needed and wanted something different. And I got it. Finally!
You may remember I cleaned a movie theater for an entire year or more. It sucked but it got me the money I needed to be where I am right now. I’ve had a dream of owning my OWN place for a very, very long time now. And I’m happy to say that – that time is pretty much now. For as I write this, I pen from my computer on my OWN sun porch in the house that I bought with my own blood, sweat and tears. Nothing has felt more complete. Huge stress on the nothing, that’s for sure.
I’ve been on a house search for years now. A secret house search that my husband was unaware of. I know. I’m terrible. I knew what kind of place I wanted to live in. I knew how I wanted to live. The place I landed at with him just wasn’t cutting it. In more ways than one. So. I saved some cash. I got a full time job that doesn’t pay super great, but it pays enough. I don’t need nor do I want a lot anymore. I like simplicity. Food. Shelter. Gas. You get my drift.
A few years ago I found a house. I loved it. My parents had this great realty lady. She showed me the home. I told her my yoga income and all the sources from which it came. Not a happy thing. So. I kept looking at homes. I kept searching for a full time job. I got the job. And in March of this year, I got the house. It had been listed for two whole days. I’d been getting extremely antsy. I wanted to move. I wanted a bungalow that wasn’t too old. One that wasn’t too big. One that didn’t need too much work. I wanted a garage. A fireplace with windows on either side and a pretty, but small kind of yard. Too much too ask? Pretty much. I started looking at houses openly once I told my husband of my intentions. So with my daughter in tow, we looked. We looked in great hoods, we looked in bad hoods. I was about to give up. And then I told her this. I told her we will find a place just for us, in a place that we never considered living. It will have everything we need and everything we want. She rolled her eyes and pretty much told me we would be moving to the ghetto.
I laughed and seriously thought she might be correct. I thought about getting a gun and the permit that would be necessary to carry it in one of those purses we sell at my work. I hate guns.
We found a house. It was on the NORTH side. OMG I know. How would I deal with the flack? How could I leave my lovely, clicky neighborhood of Phelps Grove Park? Easily. That’s how. It just felt fantastic from the get go. The house had everything I wanted with the exception of a fireplace with windows on both sides. But it does have a gas fireplace which I have learned to use and totally love!
It was spur of the moment. We were out looking at several ranch style homes in the center of town in the school district that we needed. I said I’d like to view this one so I can forget about it because it’s on the north side…lol. Off we went. It was perfect. Then the realtor said, “What a shame, it’s such a pristine property, I can’t let you live over here with your daughter all alone.” OK. The street’s a bit janky. There are about 5 homes on this street that are vacant. But you know what? It’s freaking quiet as hell. Long story short she finally said, “Let’s walk.” So we did. First house we hit was a dude wearing a bathrobe. He was smoking on his front porch at 2 p.m. Child molester? Probably. Turns out he was a bartender at Parlor 88 where she’d had a party a few weeks ago and he remembered her. He had just got out of bed. OK. Good sign. Let’s walk some more. So we did. We met several folks, most elderly and most had lived here for like 45 years. Rock on. We sat on the couch in the house, we checked the crime reports. Pretty much about the same as the hood I was leaving. My thoughts were, we’re buying the house. And so we did.
We’ve lived here for almost one month now and I don’t think I’ll ever get unpacked. I have a shop out back that measures 18×30 so that pretty much takes care of all the clutter. I have a carport and an attic. I have a fenced in yard and dog door for my animals. I have a garden shed with skylights and a beautifully landscaped but small enough to take care of kind of yard. I have hardwoods and carpet and an awesome bathroom and kitchen as well as a big front porch. Built in 1954 when ranches were a big deal, but it looks like an older bungalow. The place was completely remodeled in 2009. How lucky are we?
I think when we say things out loud they are more apt to come to us. No lie. I did a lot to help this along the way, but I also put it out there into the universe. I waited. I worked. I saved. The people that lived here before me had a lot of crystals, rocks and books on Reiki. I told Lauren that I thought that these were “our people” and oddly enough she agreed. She’s 16 and she’s probably smarter than I give her credit for.
So. If you’re not afraid to travel through the ghetto to the “north side” stop by and clink some glasses on my back deck, front porch or kitchen. Life is amazing when you just let it unfold. Cheers.