House Hunting

Hard to believe we've lived in the same home more than 22 years. Might not be much longer, from the signs and portents.

"It's time for an adventure!" She blithely announced a couple weeks ago. I sighed, figuring it would be another stint of dinners out at odd new restaurants with stingy portions and goo on the entrees, maybe new carpet (no, we just did that), and I inwardly committed to remaining placid amongst the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Boy was I wrong .

Turns out we need a new, bigger house.

But, but, but - the kids are gone (last one moved out 13 years ago), we're down to one cat and the occasional cold-blooded interloper and her six-legged lunches, but no, we need more room - and it all should be on one floor and in a newer house and close to the grandkids and on the way to the cabin and near the Superstitions. "It's your fault! You've spoiled me with that huge kitchen in the cabin and all that room! Here, it's just, just the same, day in, day out. There you sit in that Ugly Blue Chair!"

Oh, OK.

So a couple days each week we've trooped through some poor subprimed schlub's soon to be temporary domicile, and found some terrific bargains. Though I guess I can't personally describe anything as a bargain that's well into six figures, but damned if a few of these homes were not too long ago a bit into seven figures. We'll see.

If She needs an adventure, some dramatic change in her life, - - - let's just say that for a guy like me (and I think you know what I'm talking about) it could be a lot worse - a hell of a lot worse - than moving to a different house.