We sold our house! And then we went on vacation!
It wasn’t the best timing, but what can you do.
Some friends invited us to stay with them on an island in Maine where everybody drives around on golf carts and there are twenty beaches that you can visit every day.
We stayed in a “camp” but that’s really just a Maine word for summer house, apparently. Because this was a beautiful summer home on the water with huge windows, running water and three bedrooms.
Some people live in their camps all summer. The island shuts down for the winter. Which gives it a magical, summer-time-only feeling, time out of time, out there, on the island.
While we were on vacation, we put an offer on another house in Richmond. I only had about a thousand panic attacks about it.
“Why don’t we just buy a house out here?” I asked my husband. “Let’s buy a camp and live in it instead.”
We swirled drinks on the deck. We looked at the water. It was so beautiful. So different than our hot little square of burned grass and broken glass back in the city.
“Because we need to get paid,” my husband said. “We need to eat.”
Which is true.
But you can always dream, right?