I want a house that has got over all its troubles; I don't want to spend the rest of my life bringing up a young and inexperienced house.

-Jerome K. Jerome

It's official! We have a house!! Our offer was accepted, closing dates are set and now all that remains are the logistics of moving in. Oh yeah, and the waiting.

I think that might prove to be the hardest part.

I can't even begin to tell you how thrilled we are. Thrilled. In shock. Humbled. Amazed.

Since back in our wedding planning days, when Josh had applications sent out to fire departments all over the state, Janesville is where we knew we wanted to be. And since moving to Janesville 5 years ago Columbus Circle is where we knew we eventually wanted to end up.

Our new address? 1187 Columbus Circle.

It is truly a dream come true.

We would have settled for a lot less, truth be told. Our priority list was rather short. Nice neighborhood. Yard. Basement. Josh and I are both insanely practical people and we honestly felt, though our close friends tried to tell us differently, that we might never actually walk into a house and love it. We might just have to make due with liking a place and decide that buying it was the smart thing to do.

I am, however, happy to say our close friends were right.

Now a little bit about the things that we love. The house is not new. It is full of character. Personality. Quirks. It's yard is lined with mature maple trees and beneath their shade grow Lilies of the Valley, Mountain Bluebells, Hostas and Honeysuckles. Inside, the floors are hardwood. The walls plaster. Crown molding edges every ceiling and in the dining room there's a built in china cabinet and a small cubby whose sole purpose was, in the days of yesteryear, to house a land line phone. Upstairs there's another built in cabinet in the hall. And in the bathroom, my dream since childhood, an antique tub. 

I know you will probably think that I am exaggerating but truthfully I am not. To drive through Columbus Circle you feel as though you have somehow found your way onto a movie set. No one lives in a neighborhood like this, you find yourself thinking. Not anymore. Not since Leave It To Beaver went off the air. The houses are all adorable. Colonials and brick Cape Cods abound. The street itself, sheltered by towering maples, is a circle within a square. And in three of the four corners there is an expanse of green lawn. Generally filled with playing children. Since Elli turned 1 Columbus Circle is where we have gone trick-or-treating every year. Along with a good portion of Janesville. You have not seen picture perfect until you've witnessed Columbus Circle after dark, candles and Jack-o-lanterns ablaze on every porch and in every window, the golden glow of the street lamps illuminating leaf-littered sidewalks, the whole neighborhood one giant, costumed block party.

And now, we will actually be living there. With our very own maple trees and adorable house. Our hardwood floors and plaster walls. Our phone cubby and our jack-o-lanterns in the windows.We will actually possess a small piece of historic Columbus Circle. And with it a dream we never imagined would come true.

So perhaps in anticipation of our upcoming move all of my houseplants have been dying. Is that a bad omen, you think?

“I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can."   


-Beryl Markham


I have to admit that without firmly in our minds visions of the new place to which we will be heading, the thought (or reality, if you will) of leaving our condo has become downright depressing. No matter how tired we have grown of the dingy carpet, the faulty windows, the limited storage space, when our only other prospect is a big, blank, unfamiliar and uninviting unknown, the dingy carpets, faulty windows and limited storage space don't really look all that bad. Yet, we do know it is time to move on. Underneath the memories and emotions (and fear of homelessness) that truth really is unavoidable. And as with most things in my life I feel prolonging the agony is bound to only make things worse. A "just rip off the bandage and be done with it" mentality in other words. Does that apply to moving? I think so. (Or at least I am finding out.) That is why, much to the amusement of my husband, a full 24 hours into accepting the offer on our condo I started taking things off the walls and packing up the seldom used contents of our laundry room and closets. This place is no longer our home. So it needed to stop looking like it. End of story. 

Right? 

Except now, as we wait in limbo, feeling not at home in our condo and not at home anywhere else either I must admit I don't care much for the "unsettledness" of it all. As is typical of most girls I've spent my whole life making homes. Under blanket canopies and under bushes, in our garage attic and my grandparent's basement, in my expanding range of dollhouses. Even the two apartments we lived in before our condo, as much as was possible I made those into homes. Our condo has been home for 5 years. The longest we've lived anywhere. It's where we brought our daughter after we left the hospital. It's where my husband recovered from his broken hip. It's where we retreat to after the events of every day, whether they be good or bad or just plain exhausting. It is our haven. (Or perhaps I had best get used to writing in the past tense...it WAS our haven.) And maintaining it's order and warmth and comfort have been not only my calling but my pleasure. Now all that is coming to an end. 

I know, I know. We will find a house. It's onto bigger and better things! I should be excited!! I will soon have a whole new house to transform into a home. But until then...well, I can't help wondering, to a certain extent, who am I without a home? Am I the same person? How much of myself is tied to this place we are leaving?

What about you?

Well, fast forward 2 years and the quest to sell is finally over...almost. We have an accepted offer on our condo and roughly 6 weeks to pack up and move. Oh, and well, find a house too, I guess.