All the comforts of home – are gone.

We have spent the past twenty odd years accumulating, beautifying, comfortizing our lives.   And here we are – down to about 12 cardboard boxes with all those things we surrounded ourselves with in someone else’s possession – giving them joy.  We are sleeping on a mattress on the floor and soon that will be gone as well.  The idea of becoming global nomads is literally knocking at our door – and that door too will belong to someone else.

We have lived in a unique home in a small forest with a creek running next to it.  We have watched our deer Edgar come back time and again with his doe, mallards Bob and Margaret frolic in our pond, and innumerable birds, squirrels and coyotes wander through for food.  Inside the house, our creativity took flight and we were able to make our home sing while still respecting the original architectural vision.  Mid-century Brutalism is not for everyone – nor is it for the faint of heart.  Hours spent renovating, fixing, repairing and just loving this home.  It has been a part of us and has given us that safe haven many people dream of.  We have been very fortunate.  Yet we were just stewards – and it is now time for someone else to pick up the torch.

Many ask if I will miss this place.  As I think on it I realise that this home was part of the natural progression of our lives to get to this point.  This house 15 years ago was a big risk, was called ugly, was misunderstood – was well before its time.  We saw what it could be, and what we could be in it.  We grew as people, as partners.  This house taught us it was ok to dare to be different, to dance off beat, that quirky was just our rhythm.

Will I miss this house?  I will carry it with me wherever I go.  It has taught me that the environment I live in is what feeds and nourishes me – and that is something I will never miss.


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