We've been in sort of a holding position for the last month, waiting for some sort of offer on the house so we could move forward with an offer on one in our new community. There's been significant traffic through the old space, so we've got some hope that it will sell soon. But it's getting more expensive to be in this half-limbo of no address, no permanence, and no doors between me and the kitties at night.
Most places here require a year lease, so we'd be stuck until next summer in terms of looking for a home; on the other hand, there are worse things than being patient and finding the right space.
I'd also like to be settled before the snow flies, preferably. And it was less than 50 degrees this morning when I got up. It's a cool chill that reminds me of how precarious temporary housing can be.
I'm finding myself in sympathy with others who, for one reason or another, have been uprooted, and have no place to go. It's wearing to not know what the next day will hold, or whether or how things will go. I want to cook again, using an actual stove; I long to bake. I want my easy chair. (My feet agree!)
Most of all, I want to be settled.
Wish me luck.
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