In two years, our youngest will be leaving the nest. That means, among other things, that we no longer have to consider our proximity to schools or districts, or our location to just about anything—especially since Dennis will be able to retire too.
We’ve crunched the numbers—nominally, ‘cause that’s about all I can manage—and we think this is going to work.
We’re going to drastically downsize, get the house ready to sell, and move on out. To the woods.
With WiFi, of course.
Seriously, I can’t work without it and I still have books to publish and writing to, well, write. And, too, we aren’t going far—there are some things I like about civilization, after all.
I won’t lie, it’s pretty exciting: 50 acres out in the woods, a creek or river, no silly bureaucratic regulations, no traffic flying down the road, no people walking nearby, yakking on their phones. No giant black dog across the street that acts like it wants me for lunch every time I go to the mailbox. No stoplights. The list goes on . . .
Can we do it? Why not? Oh, sure, we’re getting up there and things are starting to fall apart. But if not now, when? We aren’t getting younger . . .
So many lists to make: shelter, water, gardens, power—not to mention what to get rid of and what to keep. And don’t get me wrong, it’s a process, not an overnight project.
First up: getting healthier, and getting in shape. Stay tuned for how THAT’s working out!