La Maison Nouveau
My parents moved a few months ago. They left the house I grew up in and moved into my grandparents' old house, gutting it almost completely and making the inside shiny and new and not like the shrine to the 1970's it had always been.
I was a definite proponent of the move. This house is a rancher in a quieter neighborhood, where they could easily be cute old people down the line (assuming they do not pack up and follow me across the state, country, or world to wherever I end up...)
I was sort of surprised at how unaffected I was at the idea of leaving my old house. I spent the entirety of my childhood in one house, and when my parents told me they were moving, and then subsequently did so, I was (and am) fine. I did not have a chance to go home and see the house one last time before my parents left it, but that's ok. I do not feel like I am losing my childhood, or my memories, or a safe place or anything. They live closer to my high school now, therefor about 20 minutes closer to most of my friends, which is convenient when they have to cart my car-less ass around town. ;) I will miss living 4 blocks away from my favorite cheesesteak place, though.
For the most part, I'm happy to be here. This house is smaller than our old one by a bit, but as far as quality goes, it's much, much nicer inside. New appliances, gorgeous bathroom (there is a tub/shower combo on one side of the bathroom and a giant stall shower with a bench on the other, which is totally a sex shower. This is a little bit disconcerting in my parents' home, but I'm looking past that grossness to the inevitable future when I sneak my own gentleman caller into it), hardwood floors, sun room out back, and full renovated basement where my dad can finally have his tricked out den and my mom can have a nice living room upstairs where the centerpiece of the room isn't a gigantic television. They finally got wireless internet, and my parents are actually considering getting call waiting back on their house phone, which is a serious pet peeve of mine.
But there are weird things about my first visit home since the move. I don't know where anything is! Light-switches that my hands could find by muscle memory now require a search. And where the eff are the measuring cups? I felt like a moron when my aunt asked where something was and I couldn't tell her.
I am trying to convince my parents that they need a hot tub in the sun room, though. I think I'm making headway, and when I do succeed, I will officially not give a shit that I cannot find the forks on the first try.
I was a definite proponent of the move. This house is a rancher in a quieter neighborhood, where they could easily be cute old people down the line (assuming they do not pack up and follow me across the state, country, or world to wherever I end up...)
I was sort of surprised at how unaffected I was at the idea of leaving my old house. I spent the entirety of my childhood in one house, and when my parents told me they were moving, and then subsequently did so, I was (and am) fine. I did not have a chance to go home and see the house one last time before my parents left it, but that's ok. I do not feel like I am losing my childhood, or my memories, or a safe place or anything. They live closer to my high school now, therefor about 20 minutes closer to most of my friends, which is convenient when they have to cart my car-less ass around town. ;) I will miss living 4 blocks away from my favorite cheesesteak place, though.
For the most part, I'm happy to be here. This house is smaller than our old one by a bit, but as far as quality goes, it's much, much nicer inside. New appliances, gorgeous bathroom (there is a tub/shower combo on one side of the bathroom and a giant stall shower with a bench on the other, which is totally a sex shower. This is a little bit disconcerting in my parents' home, but I'm looking past that grossness to the inevitable future when I sneak my own gentleman caller into it), hardwood floors, sun room out back, and full renovated basement where my dad can finally have his tricked out den and my mom can have a nice living room upstairs where the centerpiece of the room isn't a gigantic television. They finally got wireless internet, and my parents are actually considering getting call waiting back on their house phone, which is a serious pet peeve of mine.
But there are weird things about my first visit home since the move. I don't know where anything is! Light-switches that my hands could find by muscle memory now require a search. And where the eff are the measuring cups? I felt like a moron when my aunt asked where something was and I couldn't tell her.
I am trying to convince my parents that they need a hot tub in the sun room, though. I think I'm making headway, and when I do succeed, I will officially not give a shit that I cannot find the forks on the first try.