May 31st. That was our 100 days. Since our house burned down my husband and I have both turned 40 and celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary. While our family trip to the Frio River over Memorial Day weekend was wonderful, I had inklings of cooking up something really wonderful for us– Then our house burned down.
What makes passage of time real is, as always, the little things. I’m about out of the cotton rounds that I use for my face stuff. The package held 100. The toothpaste is getting down there too. And the hand lotion. Replacing these things is a signal of how long we’ve been gone.
We removed the 1970s era fridge from the kitchen when it started leaking rusty something down the back. And in moving the fridge from the tiny house into this house, we also moved the grill. That’s been wonderful as I use the grill as an oven through the summer. Even frozen pizza is pretty wonderful dressed up with some toppings and cooked on a pizza stone on the grill. Purchasing of the America’s Test Kitchen Cast Iron Skillet Cookbook has been a real boost for my grilling ego because German pancakes/Dutch babies, cheesy pizza dip, and shepherd’s pie. So that’s been good.
And we’re probably moving again. Mentally I’m imagining us not home by Christmas and we can’t stay in this house for another 6 months. Something expensive is going to break and then I’d feel guilty. So we’re house/apartment/condo hunting, but thankfully there’s a company that does that work for us.
As often happens, as I was walking a phrase came to mind that encapsulates where we’re at:
Housed, but homeless.
Yes, we have a roof over our head, plumbing that works surprisingly well for how old it is, a lovely little backyard with a great patio and trees– really, many things to be thankful for. And, I’m deeply grateful for the generous neighbor who offered the house before she was ready to rent it, and an insurance company that shows up and writes checks.
But we’re not at home. We’re not in the space we had worked hard to try and make our own. We don’t have our things. And the things I wish I had are things like the wall of my grandfather’s sketches that I saw every time I walked down the hall, or the just-right casserole dish to make apple crisp for breakfast (it’s delicious and you should totally try it), or the marimba which my husband or youngest would play while we got dinner on the table. Or our dog, who has been spoiled to pieces at my cousins and is happy as all get-out, but isn’t with her family who misses her.
But we go onward because that’s the choice before us, with the help of friends and family. And the kids are totally pulling for an apartment with a pool when we move. Or a house super-close to school.