Temporarily Homeless

Well, it’s official. We sold our home and are now living with the in-laws for about six weeks until the short sale we hope to buy closes

Heaven help all of us.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my in-laws. I couldn’t have married into a better family. We all love each other and have a great relationship. This is why I want to make our stay at their home as short as possible.

The hardest thing about temporarily moving in with them is that I no longer feel independent and self-sufficient. I shouldn’t feel this way considering that I’m otherwise supporting myself and my family and have done so without a problem ever since Marathon Girl and I tied the knot.

It’s just that if given the choice between living in a cardboard box and moving in with someone, I’d take the cardboard box every time. But my kids would probably have a hard time with living-in-a-box thing.

So let the adventure begin.

For everyone’s sake, let’s hope it’s a short one.

A Sign of Things to Come II

Here is a more obvious photo of the big event coming up in the next 30 days.

No, it’s not a messy playroom. It’s the first of the many boxes we’re packing up because we’re moving. (Congrats to Trina and Sue for guessing correctly on the first photo.)

We put our home on the market last month and sold it in seven days to a nice family from California. Now we’re on the countdown to pack up and get out.

The one hitch to this move is that we don’t officially have a new place to live—yet. Back in February we made an offer on a short sale and that’s still making its way through the bank. We hope to have good news in the next two weeks from the bank, but even if everything works out with the short sale it won’t close until 2-4 weeks after our house closes.

For now the plan is to move in temporarily with Marathon Girl’s parents and cross our fingers that the short sale closes soon after. If something happens with the short sale then . . . well, I don’t want to go there.

One way or another everything will work out. Things are just going to be crazy for the next month or two.

Too Many Willows

Marathon Girl and I are thinking about moving. No, we’re not heading to Texas, North Carolina, Colorado, or Arizona. Though the desire to move out of state is still there, we both enjoy my current job, benefits, coworkers, and other work-related perks too much to go elsewhere. We are, however, looking at buying a different home—one that’s a little bigger and more centrally located than our current home. We’re in the early stages of this process which means we’re just scoping out what homes are on the market and what the neighborhoods are like and discussing whether or not this is a step we want to take now or sometime next year. One of the things we’ve noticed while we drive from neighborhood to neighborhood is how the naming conventions of subdivisions and their streets are very similar. In Utah developers have lots of leeway when it comes to naming streets in the neighborhoods they build. For example a new subdivision named Mountain View Estates might have streets named after local mountains. The flexibility to name streets sometimes comes in handy when residents are opposed to a bunch of houses going up in their back yard. For example, a developer in my parents neck of the woods got the local residents involved in naming the subdivision and streets in that development in order to get more of them to support the development.

Despite this flexibility most subdivisions and streets tend to have similar themes. The consequence of this is that if you drive through enough of them looking at homes (as Marathon Girl and I have been doing lately) none of them tend to stand out. It’s made me think that if I ever had the money and desire to become a developer, I’d come up with street and subdivision different enough that maybe it would make it a bit more memorable—in a good way of course. Something like Proofrock Lane, Dickinson Drive, Hughes Avenue, or Yeats Boulevard. Okay, maybe there are better options but you get the point.

Last week the similar-named subdivision monotony was broken when we checked out a home in a subdivision named Willow Place. It quickly became apparent that the developer had a thing for willows. Streets were named Willow Way, Willow Drive, Willow Patch, Willow Sprout, Willow Pod, Willow Reed and so on. (We might have even passed by a Willow Park, I think.) What was at first something kind of quirky and different quickly became annoying as navigating our way through the neighborhood became difficult because the streets were so similarly named. Though we were finally able to find the house in question, by the time we found it we decided that it wasn’t worth living in a neighborhood that was so confusing to drive around.

The incident made me appreciate most other themed street names. As bland as they may be, most builders seem to have the sense to at least diversify the naming conventions to make them easy to navigate. Still, there has to be a happy middle ground--one

Angelou Avenue, anyone?