Today's News

 

David is now hanging out with his mother and little sister

Bonus Mom and Dad's son, David, suffered a massive heart attack yesterday. He didn't wake up. As for me, I'm walking around like a zombie, mired in grief. 

David is the reason I know Bonus Mom and Dad. And for that alone, I'm thoroughly grateful to him. 

For forty years, he'd been a great friend in many happy and dark moments. He'd been encouraging me for years to buy a place on the Lake so we could spend our families could spend our summers together.  David leaves behind a wonderful (WONDERFUL!) wife and two equally terrific teenaged daughters. Though my heart is hurting, I can't imagine what kind of hell they are going through right now. 

Public Service Announcement

Pro Tip: If you ever feel the need to give me your two cents about my life and what you think of the choices I've made, please feel free to keep it to yourself. I didn't ask. I'm not twelve. I'm a grown woman who can think for herself. I'm willing to part ways with "friends" who feel called upon to share their unsolicited opinions about my life, my marriage and my adult children. 

It's Official

 

Marty and I have spent a week looking for a new place to live. Well, we've actually spent months in analysis, conversation and discernment figuring out where we wanted to live. I wanted a small town vibe. He wanted a place where there's more chance for employment. When we came to Florida in May, we found a few areas. When we came this week, we (finally) found a house. 

We are moving to DeBary, Florida. The place is part of the greater "Deltona, Daytona Beach, Deland, Debary Metro" area (yes, really). DeBary is half way between Orlando and Daytona Beach. The population is 22,000--but the entire metro area population is closer to the size of Mesa or Tucson. Because of the bottleneck into the Orlando area caused by waterways, DeBary feels like it's on the outskirts of town instead of Orlando/Sanford adjacent. I'm totally okay with that. So far, the people are friendly. The area is clean. Oh yes! They have a dinosaur named Clayton. 

What I've Learned This Week

1. I'm not a patient person. 

2. I'm not at my best when I'm on the verge of homelessness. 

3. Marty is a patient husband and a better person than me. 

4. I've seen every floorplan imaginable since 2003. I can walk into a home and instantly know if it will work. I shop for houses the way I shop for toasters. 

5. I decided on Monday which house I wanted. Marty decided Tuesday. The offer was written. It's Friday morning and I'm told the sellers "will sign it soon." 

6. I have no desire to live in this hotel any longer. And, if they don't "sign soon." I'm probably going to be in this hotel for another four days. 

7. See bullet item 2. 

Our Random Wednesday

While waiting for the sellers to get back to us on our offer (still waiting as I write this), we did a bit of Goodwill hunting. You see, I have a pyrex mixing bowl set. The 9" bowl went to its Great Reward after a row with gravity. I've been trying to replace it for the past year. Though I could buy a brand new one online, I haven't because I don't trust the delivery folks in Texarkana to safely deliver a glass bowl. 

Anyway, Marty and I have been scouring thrift stores in multiple states on the Great Bowl Hunt. I've found 12" bowls and 4" bowls, but never my treasured 9" bowl. And to be fair, I didn't realize how much I used that particular bowl until I didn't have it. 

While killing time yesterday, Marty and I wandered into a Goodwill. He said to me, "If there's a bowl here, it must be a sign you are destined to move here." 

A bowl for me and a spare for Gravity. 

My mother sent me another snake text. She sends them often. I feel confident she won't be coming for Thanksgiving this year. 

I'll Mention This to Mom Later

An example of the random snake texts Mom sends me.

I don't like snakes. I get this from my mother who continues to send me wild text messages, chronicling every snake adventure she's ever had or thought about having. None of them, mind you, has ever resulted in anything other than seeing a snake. As I pointed out to her, she's made it 80 years and never been bitten. She's winning. 

Anyway, Mom wants to move to Florida (I'm lobbying for her to live near my brother in Boca Raton) but the thought of a snake is enough that she's hesitating. Okay, who am I kidding, there are a lot of reasons for her hesitation, but she only talks about snakes being around every corner as her latest reason. 

Yesterday, I felt compelled to send her an unsolicited text: "I've been here three days and haven't seen one snake. I think you'll be safe." 

And then, as if I jinxed it, twenty minutes later, I was inspecting the back yard of one home we were looking at, and out slithers the longest black snake I've ever seen. To its credit, it slithered under the fence and away from the property. However, as a public service, my scream warned everyone in a 500 mile radius the damn thing existed while Marty said to our agent, "Well, we won't be putting an offer on this house." 

Actually, we are putting an offer on this house. But I'm reserving the snake story to share with my mother at a later time. 

It Can Only Go Up From Here

Marty and I arrived to our final destination today and began stalking the homes we've picked out. My absolute favorite that I'd fallen in love with, is a complete dud. And let me just say, the realtor's photographer did an outstanding job of hiding the gross neighborhood. 

Tomorrow we head out with our agent to look for our next home. Marty is asking me to be optimistic. I'm ready to pivot. In the interest of marital harmony, I'm optimistically ready to pivot. Marty is optimistically ready to leave me in a swamp. I can't say I blame him. I'm tired of me too. 

I did find this sign as we were driving around through one neighborhood.