For the most part, I’m glad I’ve lived such a nomadic life. Sure, there are times when I get a pang of envy or a case of “gosh if only” when I hear people talking about the life-long friends they’ve got or the connection to a specific place because of how long they and their families have lived in that area. But those times aren’t all that frequent and really it’s more like wondering what it would be like to have blue eyes or be tall or some other not likely to happen event.
I’m sure it’s all just a matter of whatever you’re used to – whether it’s living in the same house for more than four years (haven’t done that yet) or moving on average every 1.4 years (which I have done). And I’m used to being nomadic. Moving or making new friends or finding new favorite restaurants or dry cleaners or what have you just seems to be normal to me. I think the greater challenge will be to see if I can stay in this house that I do love so much for more than four years. Stay tuned on that one.
|Wally sticking his head|
through the sewing machine
And I’m downright tickled that Kent’s got into it too. In fact he’s already sewn two gifts for family this Christmas and has another three items planned.
I like that we can share this hobby, I like that we are both learning to really fit our clothing and I like that anymore it’s a slightly unusual hobby. You can see some of what I’ve made here.
This one may sound frivolous, but I assure you it is not. I am beyond thankful to have a great cat sitter. Our cats ended up getting really wigged out during our time in Boston, and unfortunately the boys haven’t returned to a more normal, placid cat/Zen existence. In fact, Eddie has only gotten meaner when he feels threatened and we aren’t around (he never acts aggressive if we’re here – our Boston vet said he’s a cowardly bully and that’s pretty accurate). Wally is much more high strung than before we lived in Boston, and will just go hide when he’s scared. He’s gotten a lot worse about anything that smells like the vet. He hisses and attacks the other two cats if they smell like the vet, and he’ll hiss at himself if he’s the offender. Only Chloe is relatively normal.
Stacy refuses to give up on the cats. She swears she will get them to accept her and in the last 18 months, she’s made real progress. I hope she never does give up because otherwise we’d either have to stop traveling or the kitties would get kenneled at the vet’s. I shudder to think of what the readjustment period would be like after that.