There was a moderate size earthquake in Southern California today. Frank, my friend from my corporate office sent me an instant message immediately after things settled down. The funny thing is that while I was in California this past week I thought it would be cool to experience an earthquake. I guess I'll file that thought in my Be-Careful-What-You-Wish-For file.
D and I met for lunch. We went to a little Thai place by D's job for some Pad Thai. D has suggested that we should move into a new house. This after we spent one year and a boatload of money adding a master bedroom and bathroom to our current home. I love this house. I remember walking into the Open House preview, 4 months pregnant with the boy, and instantly falling for this place. Of course, it was only after we officially purchased the house that we took off our rose-colored (not a typo. we spell it without a "u") glasses and noticed all the cracks, nicks and dents. It didn't matter to me. This place felt like a home. It's a corner lot with a nice-size backyard. D wistfully looked at the backyard that chilly January afternoon and declared it was big enough to raise a mini-baseball team. Our neighborhood is like a mini UN convention full of children of all shapes, races, and sizes. Ever since he got a new job as big chief, I think D is feeling a need to "play the role". The suburb he is proposing we move to is filled with cookie-cutter new construction with lots of space and no warmth. No squeaky floorboards. No drafty windows. No temperamental water heater that randomly chooses when it is ready to provide hot water. No non-white faces unless they are doing the lawn work. It's upper-middle class hell and it's so not me. When the hell did it become D? Anyway, I nonchalantly say that I don't know how we could afford to live there so maybe he should crunch some numbers to see if it will work. Since this task requires a good amount of follow-through on D's part, I'm pretty confident we'll be living in our good old squeaky house for the next 40 years.
D and I met for lunch. We went to a little Thai place by D's job for some Pad Thai. D has suggested that we should move into a new house. This after we spent one year and a boatload of money adding a master bedroom and bathroom to our current home. I love this house. I remember walking into the Open House preview, 4 months pregnant with the boy, and instantly falling for this place. Of course, it was only after we officially purchased the house that we took off our rose-colored (not a typo. we spell it without a "u") glasses and noticed all the cracks, nicks and dents. It didn't matter to me. This place felt like a home. It's a corner lot with a nice-size backyard. D wistfully looked at the backyard that chilly January afternoon and declared it was big enough to raise a mini-baseball team. Our neighborhood is like a mini UN convention full of children of all shapes, races, and sizes. Ever since he got a new job as big chief, I think D is feeling a need to "play the role". The suburb he is proposing we move to is filled with cookie-cutter new construction with lots of space and no warmth. No squeaky floorboards. No drafty windows. No temperamental water heater that randomly chooses when it is ready to provide hot water. No non-white faces unless they are doing the lawn work. It's upper-middle class hell and it's so not me. When the hell did it become D? Anyway, I nonchalantly say that I don't know how we could afford to live there so maybe he should crunch some numbers to see if it will work. Since this task requires a good amount of follow-through on D's part, I'm pretty confident we'll be living in our good old squeaky house for the next 40 years.
posted by Mint Chutney at 10:35 PM
Mint Chutney
Chicago, United States
Wife, mother, corporate peon.
8 Comments:
Awww an old squeaky house sounds like a lot of fun, though I admit that in the long run, I'd prefer a modern home where everything's perfect and works properly. I need my hot water.
hi..
i ve been reading your blog for a while now but some how never got around to posting a comment... wat i like abt your blog is the fact that it is fun , non controversial and entertaininig.
hi..
i ve been reading your blog for a while now but some how never got around to posting a comment... wat i like abt your blog is the fact that it is fun , non controversial and entertaininig.
Stay in the good old sqeaky house !! The other neighborhood sounds damn dull.
hello Mint ... thanks for visiting the Blues. Now I know 2 bloggers from the windy City. Cheers mate!
i moved from a modern apartment in Manhattan to a pre-war in Brooklyn. old houses have so much character.
Hi thanks for dropping by my blog.And your post is delightful. Old houses...they are so 'homely'. Having lived in them in my grandparents home, I know.
ooh, i hope you live in that house for many many years. my cousin was brought up in the same house till she was 18 and sometimes i envy that. we were always moving house. and even though 'home' and 'house' might be different i think its always good to sink your roots in a house. AND the UN convention sounds wonderful...
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