A couple weeks ago I told the husband that I am thankful for the house we live in, that I will continue to be thankful that we have a place to live, and I will not complain too much. But, I said, when the time comes that we get our own house again, I will be moving with glee.
Let me remind you that last summer we lived in our fifth wheel camper for six weeks. Then a couple from church offered us the opportunity to rent a really super clean and nice double wide that came available so our kids could start school. Now we live here, in another double wide on 20 acres. It is not *ideal* by any means, but we are making it work.
If you have never lived in a manufactured home and have not also lived in a stick-built home, let me enlighten you with a little story. A true story.
Before we moved into our camper last summer we lived in an old farm house on five acres surrounded by potato and grain fields. The house was old, but full of character and we planned to buy it eventually and make it what we knew it could be--a beautiful, big, clean, well-kept home for our family.
Before that we lived in a house in town, and before that we lived in a different house in a different town. And before that we lived in what we thought was our forever home on top of a hill overlooking Mt. St. Helens. It was a beautiful home and the setting was perfect. The carpet was new, the walls were painted. I had spent quite a lot of time and energy making it nice and put-together. It wasn't a museum by any means, but it was comfortable and I thought it was beautiful.
Fast forward over three years to yesterday. We had been invited to spend Easter with a really nice family from church. They have a couple of really great kids about our kids' ages and since none of us have family around, they invited us over for Easter dinner. I brought a salad and dessert. After church we followed them to their home.
Their house is in a nice subdivision out of town a little way. He works in construction and she works at the local hospital. They have a beautiful home that is tastefully decorated and child friendly. They have a paved driveway and a play structure in the fenced back yard. Their son has a blue room and their daughter has a lavender room. Everything has a place, though most things of the children's things look just as comfortable out of place as they do in place. We adults sat in the living room after a yummy dinner with a glass of wine and visited about kids and jobs and family and burping at the table and other things that happen when you have kids and families and jobs and all that. Violet found a harmonica and kept bringing it in and playing it for us. So lovely. The rest of the kids, including Mr. C., ran around in the back yard and rode the scooters and bikes around on the paved driveway. They ate too much Easter candy and the chocolate covered strawberries I had brought for dessert. It was a perfect day--and really the first perfect spring day we've had.
Then Calla emerged. She just turned six. She was three when we moved the first time. Yesterday she ran into the the living room at our new friends' house and announced that she really liked this place and wanted to have her next birthday party here.
We smiled an nodded. She ran away happily. I got a little sad.
I will not live in a manufactured home forever. My children will grow up in a nice, clean, large, well decorated house that we call home and we are proud to have people over to. And yes, she can have her birthday party there. We will not live like this forever.
After four kids, ten moves and nearly two decades, we are still blissfully in love (most of the time) and I found myself back in the state I was born and raised in. It has definitely been a journey. In fact, on our 18th anniversary we pulled the last of our stuff up over the pass and into Montana, leaving our surprise love, Idaho, behind. But Montana is a great place. The last best place according to some. And we fully intend to explore as much of it as we can! Join us on our continued adventure through life, love and other stuff that comes with it.