Tag: moving

Ignoring the Rules 2.0

 

We just moved.  I’m in a new neighborhood, a new town, same state – thank God (for Gov. DeSantis).  It’s a 55+ community because me, my husband and our cat are over 55.  He picked the community – when we cashed out in spades selling our old house, and our real estate agent told us about our current town.  We like it here, but it’s been less than two weeks.  There’s construction – because half the country is moving to Florida –  and older folks.

I have nothing against grey hair and golf carts.  Personally, I like Ultress and Preference by L’Oréal – it does wonders, but that’s just me. The next-door neighbor brought us a triple chocolate cake.  He has brown hair and two adorable pooches. They gave us a snapshot of the nearby neighbors and I was impressed.

They seem to jump in and do projects – scarfing up free lumber from the dumpsters and building things as needed, including a ramp for a disabled neighbor and insulating garages from the Florida heat.  Older people know how to build things and how to budget.  They bike, kayak, walk, and hike, we noticed. The amenities center had a lively water volleyball game taking place when I visited, an outdoor painting class, and bocce ball and tennis games in action.

Snow: The Other Side of the Season

 

The beam of the car headlights framed flakes as they drifted, barely there. “Well, kids–it’s really snow,” said our dad. Snow. Snow. We stared out the front windshield and talked loudly. The faint precipitation didn’t rate the stir going on in our vehicle. Dad finally told us to settle down.

But we had been waiting for months–since September, when we had flown out of Bangkok, landed exhausted in New York City, and ridden through the night with patient friends to my dad’s family home out in the country. We soon moved to a turn-of-the-century house in town, some of the antique furnishings intact. Often, we drove our station wagon out into the rolling green and wooded countryside, visiting family, friends, or churches that hosted us with potlucks. We’d glided along smooth, quiet roads and eaten meatballs at farmhouses and wondered at carpeted bathrooms. But with snow, we’d know we were really in America, seeing the seasons as the books said they were supposed to be.

The Faded Blue Rug That Changed Everything

 

“We’re going to sleep in the new house tonight,” my dad announced one summer evening.  There were no beds in the new digs yet, just sleeping bags on the living room floor, yet none of us demurred.  Our current house, a stucco ranch set back in a lot with another brown stuccoed rental in front, had seen us through a year.  I’d finished eighth grade in this place: studied the anatomy of bird wings, made mnemonics for plant terms, recorded myself reading off grammar terms and definitions, and drove my older brother to my door saying “Would you shut that off?!” when I played back the tape. I’d stayed up until the wee hours reading my book report selections the night before they were due to avoid the fat, gaping zero we’d been promised for failing to finish.  (I made it through Gulliver’s Travelers, but had to give up on a tome called Bangkok.)

Brown. The old three-bedroom house was dark brown, from the rugs to the drapes to the trim.  There was the perimeter outdoors where us kids had played a game of hide-and-seek with the neighbor kids, racing to spy each other through parallel windows and laugh. We got in trouble for that–we had trampled the landscaping.  I remember fine black dirt, pepper or eucalyptus providing shade. A chain-link fence bordered a parched back yard where I’d felt mild interest in a tent one of us had put up.

Downsizing… Any Age Qualifies

 

We sold our house and we’re moving. It was very unexpected, but leong story short: we noticed a few quick sells in our neighborhood (for a lot of money), and my husband kept telling me stories of clients, who told him “people” knocked on their doors, and offered any asking price! Wow! Are things that bad in all those wretched, crime-riddled, police-hating states?  Apparently so, because it’s not COVID that’s causing all these East and West Coast license plates showing up on our roads, it’s our once-beautiful major cities being burned, looted, trashed, and becoming un-inhabitable that’s driving the red-hot relocation and housing boom.

So we tentatively dipped our toe, threw out an insane asking price, and within twenty-four hours, had five showings and two offers above listing price.  We took the all cash offer and ability to lease back cheap for two months. Our heads are spinning, but thank you Democrats for driving people to my beautiful, police-loving, calm and sensible state.  We were able to fund our retirement three and a half years earlier, and are in the process of building a new house in a new area (of course it’s the same state and not Portland!).

Member Post

 

November 5, 2006: Moving seemed as though it would never end, but there was this happy interlude. (Read Part I here, Part II here, Part III here, Part IV here,  Part V here,  Part VI here,  Part VII here,  Part VIII here,  Part IX here, Part X here, and Part XI here.) The girls, six and five, had a great day today–both were well-rested and cheerful at the same time, which […]

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October 29, 2006: Our first snow, first Halloween, and first day moved into our new house. (Read Part I here, Part II here, Part III here, Part IV here,  Part V here,  Part VI here,  Part VII here,  Part VIII here,  Part IX here, and Part X here.) Preview Open

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Montana Journal V: The Property

 

In the first three installments, I was preparing for the big move from San Diego to Montana. Part IV found my husband and I and two young daughters at one of our country’s most breathtaking national parks. Now in Part V, we go to the twenty acres of forested property on which we’d hoped to have a move-in-ready house by the time the girls and I came to Montana. Little did I know that our construction journey would have more bumps than a dirt road in springtime. (Read Part I here, Part II here, and Part III here, and Part IV here.)

September 10, 2006

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September 17, 2006 . . . Waiting for the contractors to finish our house. (Read Part I here, Part II here, and Part III here, Part IV here, and Part V here.) When I heard that we would be staying in an apartment, I packed a giant garbage bag bulging with sleeping bags along with boxes of old pots […]

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Teri is back behind the mic, giving you an update on: her life these last six months, where Smart Girl Politics is headed and her new project.

Please be sure to go to fierce.substack.com/ to join in the fun!

Join Jim and Greg as they discuss eye-opening numbers of Americans fleeing deep blue states and heading for places with more freedom. They also unload on New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo for threatening major fines for not giving out vaccines soon enough and vowing even bigger penalties for giving vaccines to groups who shouldn’t be getting them yet. And they roll their eyes at yet another Kamala Harris story about herself that seems impossible to believe.

Delivering on the Promise: Amazon Moving Staff Out of Seattle

 

Seeing how Seattle values their company (or not), Amazon management announced this week that they will move their worldwide operations team from Seattle to Bellevue (across Lake Washington).

The move will take some months and will involve only a fraction of their total of 45,000 Seattle employees, but it sends a message to the socialist-progressive politicians who run the city, that they cannot count on Amazon’s taxes to fund their utopian agenda.

On Leaving Portland

 

Some of you know, but many may not, that @1967mustangman and I have left Portland, OR, for the greener pastures of Dayton, OH. While there are many things about Portland I miss (the food, Mustang’s family, my coworkers, the food, the mountains, the food…) it surprised me what a sense of relief I felt as we left the city limits. Driving a 22-foot diesel moving van was a learning experience — one which required asking @davecarter many questions on Facebook — but actually driving across this beautiful country helped remind me that there is life outside the dreary angst that progressives have created in Oregon. Wyoming and Nebraska were especially beautiful.

Perhaps the most noticeable difference is the lack of homeless people in Dayton. The winter weather is fairly inhospitable for living on the streets, and Dayton doesn’t really cotton to having homeless hanging out on street corners. Since we moved here, I have seen maybe four people asking for money on street corners. This is in stark contrast to the tent cities of Portland, where vagrancy is not only tolerated but accepted and supported. Because of that permissiveness, the freeways and under bridges are littered with trash, making the city look like a cross between Idiocracy and District 12 from The Hunger Games. Lest anyone think the homeless are harmless, I would invite you to read this, where the victim in question is my own sweet husband. To be fair, Ohio does have some of the highest heroin use in the country, but serious efforts are in place to stop the influx of drugs by the cartels. Meanwhile, at my hospital in Portland, a patient who denied any street drug use finally owned up to doing meth because, as he said, “I mean…everyone does a little meth…”

Member Post

 

At the end of May, I will be journeying from Tucson to Menomonee Falls, Wisconsin to start my new job. I know Ricochettis live all over the country so I would like some input. What places do you recommend me stopping by on the way there? Here’s the route. I’ll either be taking the US-54E route […]

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Since @stad published his “rules of civilized behavior” for New Jersey refugees relocating to South Carolina, I thought I’d ask for Ricochetti help for what I should be careful of as Mrs. Tabby and I move from western New York state (Rochester) to Weatherford, Texas (about 20 miles west of Fort Worth) this summer. We […]

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Around my neck of the woods, almost all doctors and medical facilities have a sign in their lobby that says “No new Medicare patients”.  I’ve heard of this happening in many other parts of the country as well.  Given that lots of people retire at 65 (or later) and move to their dream retirement home […]

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My brother and I once made a semi-serious deal: if the Republic falls, and we are not both in Texas, we’ll go halfsies on a private island. Sadly, my brother up and moved to the Lone Star State without me, and I’ll never be able to afford an island on my own. I don’t identify […]

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The girls and I were finally in Montana after all that build-up. It’s significant that my first Montana post didn’t appear until September 3, 2006–a month after we’d arrived. I think I must have been a little occupied those four weeks. Anyway, I didn’t have time to dwell on the city and people I’d left behind. […]

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