Change a Comen...

When Benny was in my belly, I felt it coming.

Now it is here.

Change.

We own a condo. A great family-friendly place. It's clean. It's safe. Nice enough.... I mean, it was only once when the neighbors forgot to bring their kitchen stove in from the front porch. And every home is not EXACTLY the same. But I like it. And the kids are comfortable here.

It is not, however, our dream.

Lately we've vowed that the next move is the "Never Move Again" move. (At least til the boys are raised.) The place where money invested, is money enjoyed. The home with a white, hexagon-tiled bathroom. Some property with some space, a few climbing trees, rocks, and grass. A cozy school system. An established neighborhood. Space to stay. Maybe have a basement to rent out, or room for a hospice patient to stay. You know, the "white picket fences" we all hope for.

If there is a time for us to jump, we've decided it is now. Volumes of homes for sale, with record interest rates.

So...we found a place. We've found a renter. And we made an offer.

Change is a comen.