The big decisions, I find, are those that hit you like a ton of bricks one quiet Sunday afternoon. There you’ve been, minding your own business, tootling along in the slow lane of life, enjoying the scenery, and within a matter of minutes, there are these huge decisions lurking on the not-so-distant horizon that you have to make, one way or the other.
You can, of course, choose not to.
You can go along with the things you’d planned, and disregard any elements that could knock you off that course. You would be perfectly within your rights to just not look in that direction for a bit, until the unsettling thing had gone away.
But, when you’re me, you look at it. And you turn it over in your mind, trying to see all the possible avenues, repercussions, and ripples of what that element, that spanner might throw into the works. When you’re me, you cannot simply look away. You jump emotionally into the breach, and it’s as though the decision has already been made, and you’re standing there on tenterhooks waiting to see what will happen.
So, now I bet you want to know what I’m talking about, right? Well. It’s a bit complicated. A few months ago, the hubs and I (instigated by me, strangely enough – and contrary to all former statements), started talking about having a baby. Yup. I know what I said. But you remember what I said about change and changing minds? This is one of those things.
You see, I’m comparatively young. Young enough to have made sweeping statements in the past, but also old enough to realise how sweeping and how limiting those statements were. I’m getting a little older and a tiny bit wiser, and I realised that I’m not held accountable to old decisions. I don’t have to go along the path set before me by my own history, any more than I have to go along a path set by someone else. And so, when I started getting stirrings of wanting something I had never wanted before, I realised that yes, change is possible and sometimes even welcome.
And so it was, as we were going around show houses (yes, we’re going to move soon, too), that we stumbled upon a house that changed everything. We’ve been looking for a small place, 2-3 bedrooms, preferably with parking and a little garden. We like light, and ideally, would be not too far from either town (where we hang out) or work (these two things are, we realised like finding a unicorn). We’ve got a smallish budget, and houses that we like are sold before we’ve even fully contemplated how it might be to live there. Then we came across this gorgeous place. Three bedrooms, braai area, pool, garden, lovely kitchen, and – even better – a separate granny flat. It’s light, lovely, spacious, with a combination of old-style charm and modern convenience. It is, in fact, our dream house. In a nice neighbourhood, albeit in the suburbs (close to work, but far from town).
(You knew there would be a but, right?) It would mean continuing our current living situation, where my in-laws visit roughly every month, staying for up to a week at a time. Yeah. Let that sink in.
Because we own our current house with my husband’s parents, we were moving so that they could liquidate their cash, and make some provision for the next stage of their life (they are already retired, but moving towards old-age homes and so on). Individually (in other words as two separate couples), we can afford two small places, plus we want to keep their current house in Onrus – there’s no market for holiday homes, and it means more to us than it would be sold.
I wrote that about a month ago. So much has happened in the interim, that it deserves a separate post. Suffice for now to say that, we’ve bought the house. Eek.
** Pics courtesy of my Instagram feed, and are really unrelated to anything (I have a new phone!)