That's hard to type. It really is.
It looks like we will be moving sometime soon. We're buying a 1901 neo-Colonial foursquare in the same neighborhood-- a few blocks down. My mother will be moving in with us. It needs a few updating/cosmetic-type things... at least as we see it now. It's certainly not the fixer-upper that this house was, but there are definitely things I want to change. Hopefully nothing that HAS to be changed.
Once we get into that house, we'll turn our attention back to the bungalow. We'll need to finish up some of the projects we started and never completed, and we'll need to freshen up some of the things we did when we first moved in.
My mother will be leaving the house we lived in from the time I was 11 years old. It's the only permanent home my sister has known. It's where my mother lived when my father passed away. It's nearly 23 years of memories. No one ever loved that house really, but that's not the point. My mother and I both loved the house we were in before that one, a turn-of-the-century folk Victorian. So in a way, it will be a homecoming for us.
Then we'll sell or rent the houses once they're up to speed.
I have started working on a blog for the new house. I'll link to it when I'm ready; I'm waiting until we've closed before I start talking too publicly and specifically about it. At a certain point, there will be a flurry of updates here for this house and probably for my mother's mid-century cottage, as well.
The new house is on a lot 3 times the size of this one; the house is 2 1/2 times the size of this one, and has a gallery/studio/guest house the same size as the bungalow. The "kiddo" is a fully-fledged teenager now, and 1 bathroom isn't really cutting it for us. We're up to 4 dogs larger than 45lbs. And cats. We've finally outgrown this house, perhaps a bit quicker than we expected.
I love the bungalow. It's become another member of the family and I am a bit heartbroken to leave it. But we're excited, too.
And at least we won't be immediately parting ways; just taking a break.
I promise, Bungalow. It's not you; it's me.