One Year Later

Last year, Christmas time.  We had just moved into my MIL's home.  Our sons were home and everyone was adjusting to this new life we'd appropriated.  My husband and I were so happy to have the boys here and we miss them now.  First born is second from the right.  He'll be home Thursday.  Second born is first on the right and he will not be home as he's begun a new job in Florida.  

The room below, once a very large living room, has been transformed into a kitchen/family room with new 12" pine board floors.  It's been a labor of love and we are busy dividing the old farm house into two living spaces.  With alot of compromise on both sides, we're making this work. 

The boys on a hike with the dogs.  This is our older dog, Zoe.  She's still full of piss and vinegar...mostly piss.

Truly An Empty Nest Part III Transitions

Tree  Meeting by Cole Scott

Our new life begins in the home of my mother in law.  She's 83 years old, still recovering from the death, last year, of her ex husband and housemate of sixty years.  She is a tippler who self medicates.  She doesn't handle change well.  Of course, who at 83 handles change "well"?  The reasons for our moving in with her were many:  she has a rambling old farm house with an upstairs living space, she's not in good health, the house needs upkeep and it seems to make financial sense for all concerned.  She can use the extra money and we can save some money.  I am convinced that multi-generational living arrangements are making a comeback.  There are many reasons, not least of which is the current recession; but there is also a real need for care and protection of aging parents.  This is an idea we kicked around for several years.  When we finally put our house on the market and it sold in one day and we had five weeks to move, well, it became an immediate realty.

Adjusting to our new living arrangement is the hardest part.  My MIL is set in her ways and very stubborn.  While she embraces the idea of our living with her, she resents the invasion of her space.  We find ourselves walking on tiptoe around her, never quite sure of her mood for the day.  My father was the same way.  He did not like any deviation from his routine and could get cranky at the drop of a hat.  The cliches of old people are all true:  they have to eat early, they drive like crap, they keep the heat turned up to unbearable levels and they don't like change.  Eating, sleeping and regularity are their primary concern, not necessarily in that order.  My husband and I wonder if we'll be like that when we're their age.  OMG, I hope not. 

My younger son is living with us for the time being.  He has his own room, three squares and a new job.  He's content for now although he's making plans to move out in six months.  He patiently deals with his grandmother's moodiness.  His brother is home for Christmas and, together, they make her laugh and keep her entertained.  Their energy and joy are infectious. 

As for my husband and I, we're giving this a three month test.  We'd like it to work because she can't really stay in the house alone much longer.  It's not practical nor safe.  But, everyone has to make it work.  So, fingers crossed. 

Truly An Empty Nest Part II Packing To Go

Our move was fast paced and intense.  We had the bright idea of doing it ourselves.  After all, we'd decided to dispose of fifty percent of our belongings:  paperwork, books, furniture, clothing, etc. to expedite the process.  We figured it would be a snap.  Boy, were we wrong!  Fifty percent of eleven years in the same place is a whole lotta crap!  The house was 3200 sq ft with a 3/4 attic and a garage which served as our basement because it was full of stuff.  We parked our cars outside.  No room.  About once a year, my husband would clear out space in the garage and go to the dump.  But we always filled it up again.

Library reading nook

So here we are, calling auctioneers to review the antiques.  It took 3 tries to find someone to take them on consignment which tells you the value of our antiques...not much.  We called Habitat for Humanity but they were on overload from other folks giving them things.  We boxed clothes for various churches and thrift stores and gave almost new furniture to friends.  And then there were the old things nobody wanted, the 20 year old couches and upholstered chairs beaten down by kids and shredded by the cat.  They really weren't even good enough for my younger sons' college friends badly in need of furniture.

Ahhh, the dump, our refuge and saviour.  Hated taking anything there but it was the place of last resort.  The dump store took our small appliances and the dump took twenty years of income tax ppwk and memorabilia. They took our books as well.  Second hand book stores want books with covers or they say they won't sell.  The school library was filled to overflowing.  I mean, what does it say when nobody even wants a full set of encyclopedia?

Living Room with furniture & books to go!

The gleaming kitchen

And the move itself?  Back breaking work for my husband and younger son.  They worked long hours.  It took three solid weeks.  We were still packing two days before closing but we got it done.  The morning we closed, my husband and I drove to the house to gaze one last time at the home we created.  It had been thoroughly cleaned, carpets shampooed, kitchen sparkling and the sun shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows in our living room.  We held one another and thanked God for the happiness we shared in this incredible place with our children and pets and friends.

 

View from the Living Room

And off we went, down the hill, away from our old life, headed for the new one.

For other photos of our home, see below and/or go here.

Truly An Empty Nest Part 1 Life Changes

 ORIGINALLY WRITTEN 11/29/09:

Hand built stone wall holding up our flagstone terrace

My family and I are in the final stages of moving from the house in which we raised our children to the large rambling home of my mother in law.  As you can imagine, it is a move fraught with emotion.

Boy's room

We had been talking of selling our home for a number of years, back at the top of the market in 2005.  We had bought a split level home on top of a mountain in 1998, moving in Thanksgiving weekend.  It had spectacular views, alot of potential, and not much else.   The boys were 11 and 10 and we'd lived in New Hampshire a year.  The house had promise and we made an acceptable offer.  We moved in Thanksgiving weekend.  We began renovations the following January.  We never looked back.

Master Bath created  circa 1999

As houses go, it was spacious, with large rooms and a fairly open floor plan.  It was built on a slab, something Californians understand but New Englanders do not.  The bank had a heck of a time finding comps for the appraisal.  We were getting a good deal and we believed we'd make money on it.  The views were too good, we had closet space galore and three bathrooms, soon to be four.   Our seller, the original owner, had installed an odd assortment of fixtures, cabinetry and bathroom appliances from various and sundry projects on which he'd worked.  The bathrooms had flesh toned fixtures,  the cabinetry was left over from a condo project on which he had additional pieces.  His electric work was definitely not up to code but the house was sound and he was a good guy who installed a new heating system and replaced the roof before we moved in. The negatives were an unfinished downstairs, mostly exposed concrete slab, a dingy, poorly designed kitchen, and the dirt road on which we lived..    The positives were the large rooms, the front porch we would turn into our living room, the 270 degree views and the national forest abutting our property.  We had privacy and a safe yard for the dogs.

Boys' Bathroom                                                                                                 Guest Bathroom

My husband and I are no strangers to moving.  This would be our eighth move.  It would be our sixth purchased home.  But this time was different.  This time I did not want to go.  This time, I felt my heart breaking.

Winter at our home