My trip to Seattle this past week was spectacular.
What a beautiful, beautiful city. Although I was only there for a few days - I could definitely see living in the Pacific Northwest. Infact, when I returned home, I spent some time researching real estate in the area ... so don't be surprised if there's an announcement soon.
You know how I love to dream.
During the time that I was away, I received a call from my husband. Apparently, because his office has lost several of their large contracts - due to the economy - the decision has been made that his office will be closed. There is some discussion about Charlie continuing to work from home, part-time. But the man who works with Charlie will quite possibly, be facing a lay-off, which has been very difficult for my husband to consider.
He's not sure what to do.
Meanwhile, my father has been in an assisted living facility for the past few months. And although he has been doing very well - considerably better than he was earlier this year - I can't help but feel badly that I'm not closer to help. Much like I feel badly that I'm not closer to help my mother with Jim, who was recently discharged to her care.
I'm not sure what to do.
The thought has crossed both of our minds, several times within the past few days, that maybe now is the prime time to pull up stakes and move. To a different part of the country. To a different house, different neighborhood, different community. Where there is more nature and less concrete. Where there is more of a gentleness towards life and less chaos and hostility.
During my time away this week, I was reflecting on a number of different scenarios. On Wednesday afternoon, we worked a half day and spent the afternoon on one of our team-building events. When I scheduled the meeting in January, I took our team hot air ballooning. When my co-worker scheduled this meeting, she took us out to the picturesque Bainbridge Island, and we spent an afternoon kayaking around Puget Sound.
I felt like I had died and gone to heaven.
This is where I am meant to be.
In this house, right here on the water.
But seeing as neither Charlie nor I would be employed if we just pulled up stakes and moved to Washington, this houseboat might be more in line with our financial capabilities.
The way I see it, between the two story houseboat - and the sailboat - and the dingy - we'd have room for me and Charlie, all four kids, my mother and Jim and my father. We could just tether everything together and our quasi-flotilla would move from port to port.
We would experience nature. We would live off whatever we could catch, from the sea. We would be immune from the rat race that it seems our lives have morphed in to. We would cleanse our bodies and spirits of negativity. We would teach our children about the world around them. We would support our parents in their golden years.
We would unite multiple generations as we live, together.
In perfect harmony. Aboard our boats.
At least until the mutiny where I'm thrown overboard for thinking up such a half-baked idea.