Boomer Chick: An Ordinary Day in the Life of a Boomer Babe

Just like the Dorothy in Wizard of Oz, this Dorothy is about to land in a place far, far away from home.

But, it’s not really. Chincoteague, Virginia, isn’t but about a half hour drive from here, but it’s a whole ‘nuther world over on the island and in six days I’m going to find out whether I’ll be wanting to click my ruby red slippers and crying, “I want to go home. I want to go home" or not.

But, I can’t. Once I sign that lease, Chincoteague will be my new home and I better stop this whining or I’m not going to make it any easier.

I’m now understanding why they say “home is where the heart is,” because as I walk around this old house, I feel like I’m losing one of my soul mates. Out of 53 years that I have been alive, I have lived in this house longer than any other house I’ve ever lived in – twelve long, yet short, years.

Okay, the rent was cheap.

And I complained the whole time I was here.

But, never mind that. It still was home. When I ran the hair dryer, I knew to turn off all the lights or the circuit breaker would go off and I’d be stuck standing there naked as a jaybird in the dark fumbling for clothes and matches so I could head outside and flip it back on.

If it rained, I knew to keep a careful eye on how much it was rising at the back door so I could bail before it came into the house and ruined my washer and dryer (it caught me a couple of times at work and now my washer and dryer have rusty bottoms).

If it was going to be below frigid temperatures, I knew the drill. Duct tape every crack I could find, hang the sheet up in between the living room and dining room to keep out the draft from the antiquated back door that I could do nothing about and keep water dripping.

Oh, but let’s not talk about the wild kingdom artifacts. A baby snake skin in my silverware drawer and this was after I moved in and wasn’t there when I did move in so Lord knows where the mama of that sucker was all the time I was living here.

How about the funny little flying insect thingees (flying termites perhaps?) that came out every spring before BF sprayed around the house that would fly around in mobs around my son while he was sleeping?

Oh, how about the time I was sitting here on the computer and I looked out and there was a rat standing in my kitchen staring at me? I froze, he said Pffttt, slowly turned around and wobbled back behind the stove, leaving me sitting there in shock, unable to move, scream, pass out or do anything but try to keep that steady flow of air coming in and out of my air pipes.

Oh, yeah, it’s been a blast.

But, as each inconvenience appeared, there was always a solution and we took care of it. It just seemed that there for awhile, the inconveniences started adding up to the point where we really wanted out of this house, but again, the rent was cheap and we were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Do we get something better and more expensive and give up our luxury vacations and being able to buy whatever we wanted?

And despite how run down this house became, it still kept that roof over our head and still was a place we could come home from work and find a little bit of sanctuary.

We move in five days. Or at least start moving. We’re dragging it out because of conflicting work schedules and we don’t want to kill ourselves lugging our worldly possessions we just can’t do without to a condominium with 2 floors, so we won’t officially be in there until that following weekend.

It’s going to be different all right. Come to think about it, for the first time in twelve years, we will be living normal without snakes, rats, flying bugs and a busy highway a few yards from our front door.

Oh, yeah, in time I will forget ever having any sad feelings for this old house, I suppose. But it’s still going to be sad leaving it for these reasons:

This was the house where I found my independence.
This was the house where I met BF.
This was the house my son’s doctor announced he had Marfans.
This was the house my daughter become a nurse.
This was the house l learned how to use the computer.
This was the house I took that knowledge and became a successful online small business owner.
This was the house where I saw the Smokies for the first time and declared it my spiritual home. This was the house where I found out my twin flame died.
This was the house where I found out the news that suicide bombers had threatened our sense of peace and belief that we will always be safe in America the same week my twin flame died.
This was the house that Chelsea, my first Cocker Spaniel, died which we replaced with two more – Cassie and Max.
This was the house where I buried Frosty and Bebe, the last two cats I will ever own.
This was the house I have cried and laughed for the last twelve years of my life.
This was the house I have memories of good times and bad times, but it was also the house where I triumphed and became the kind of person I knew was inside of me in terms of professional and spiritually.
This was the house that held many years of living and this was the house of which I now have to say goodbye so I can turn over a new leaf and start anew.

This was a house filled with bittersweet memories which will never go away.

Sometimes I want to get to the point where goodbye won’t be painful by believing that this move is going to be the best thing I’ve ever done for myself; but yet, there’s a little bit of me that’s going to remain behind.

There’s a bit of me that’s still going to be hoeing that garden out back (something you can’t do in a condo) or taking the dogs on laps around the chicken houses or pruning the roses or planting new seeds and watching them sprout. Those “outdoor” things I think I’m going to miss the most living in a condo.

But, Feng Shui-ing your life is about looking ahead and seeing the positive, so that is what I’m going to work on for the next six days while I wait until moving day grabs me by the reins and whips me into reality.