Tag Archives: moving

Moved to the Country

A few years ago, I made a blog post announcing that I had become a homeowner.  At the time, the house I bought was considerably bigger than I needed. But I was planning ahead for something that would be not just for me, but also for my girlfriend, that later became my wife, and her two teenage children.  It was a beautiful 4-bedroom house with tons of space.  And it was in an area that I wanted to be in.  Since 1990, I had lived just a few miles from the beach on the Florida Emerald Coast, except for one year when I lived about 15 miles north of the coast.  It had always been a wonderful area to live. 

The Brick

I was 19 when I first moved to Fort Walton Beach and I was at the beach every day I could make it.  At that time, my life revolved around making time for the beach.  All my kids grew up going to the beach, one of them was even a paid beach lifeguard for a season.  The kids loved the beach, the waves, the sand.  I always enjoyed taking them.  As they grew up, I went to the beach less and less.  They had their own rides or, eventually, drove themselves.  Today, I can’t remember the last time I went to the beach.  Probably when my sister came for a visit a few years ago.  But as I look back over the last 10 years, there are plenty of entire calendar years that I didn’t even step foot on the sand.  All while living maybe 10 minutes from the beach. 

The area I once treasured as paradise outgrew itself and was no longer desirable to me.  My wife and I decided to move out to the country and found a terrific house on a small lake.  It’s a much smaller house, but much bigger lot, and on a lake.  Did I mention the lake?  We can still go to the beach, but it would take at least an hour to get there.  Unless it’s tourist season, then it might take two hours or more.  But now I can walk out onto my back deck and enjoy the lake view any time I want.  No tourists.  And that is part of what makes it a great view.  The lake itself is beautiful, but the peace and quiet make it close to perfect. 

Living out here is a little different.  Not like the old Chevy Chase movie Funny Farm (1988) when he moved from New York City to the country. But there are some quirks and a lot of dirt roads. There’s plenty of farmland and most of the people here move at their own pace.  Up the road within a couple miles, there are horses, cows, and pop-up produce stands.  And we do have a favorite pop-up produce stand.  We’re about 7 miles north of a small town that has a lot to offer.  I love the mom-and-pop restaurants and shops, local activities, and I especially love living in an area that takes things slower. It’s much better than living in a more populated area.  Speaking of slow, we even still have a Radio Shack in town.  Time must have slowed here quit a bit, I thought all of those stores closed years ago.  And slow is perfectly fine with me.  I’m not in any hurry.

Radio Shack. Can you believe it? Open 6 days a week.

Since I had to quit my “real” job a few years ago for medical and health reasons, I do gig work like Door Dash, Uber, and other things.  Out here I do Door Dash.  There is almost no demand for Uber.  The only good Uber trip I’ve taken since moving here was a 60-mile, one-way trip going north into Alabama.  That was one of three Uber trips I’ve taken since moving.  There’s just no demand for it here.  But Door Dash is busy, as long as I drive south towards town.  Many of my Door Dash trips have taken me down one-lane dirt roads.  One of my trips even took me across a one-lane wooden bridge.  And in just the first two months I did Door Dash after moving here last year, I had already delivered more alcohol and pregnancy tests than I had in the 3 previous years of dashing.  Actually, I had never delivered a pregnancy test until I moved here.  You’d be surprised how many of those get ordered in this area, usually getting picked up from a Dollar General store.  Maybe it has something to do with the copious amount of alcohol people order for delivery out here.  There could be a connection between those two things, who knows?

(L)One of the many one-lane dirt roads my Door Dash travels have taken me. (R) A paved road that turns into a one-lane wooden bridge. Always an adventure out here.

This was a good move to come out to the country.  My mental health hasn’t been this good in years.  My wife was able to transfer with her state job and is now closer to work than she’s ever been, so that worked out extremely well.  Being retired from the military, I don’t have to keep a full-time job to survive and provide.  That’s why I like doing gig work; I make my own schedule and work when I’m able to, usually two or three days a week.  I do a lot around the house and in the yard, when my body allows it.  I’m cooking more new things than I ever have, exploring recipes that I would have never tried before.  I’ve become more active with the VFW (Veterans of Foreign Wars).  And I’ve been writing more.  And I have really missed writing. 

Life is good, y’all.  I’m living proof that no matter how bad the past was, no matter the pain, bad memories, or failures that dragged you down, you can get back on top of life.  And I thank God everyday for where I am now, not just where I live, but who I am.  I’m glad you stopped by Story of My Life today.  Good day, God Bless.

Dave

Did I mention the lake?

The Brick

I bought a house.  Way ahead of schedule for what my original plans were.  I thought it would be at least a couple more years before I was in a position to buy, but sometimes things work out.  It’s a great house, built in 1972, and had only one owner until I bought it last month.  The gentleman that bought the house almost 50 years ago passed away in January.  It does need a few minor things taken care of, but it got a brand-new roof and a complete electrical re-wire before closing.  The seller was extremely accommodating in selling the house she grew up in.

The move was a huge pain, not fun.  The closing had to be moved back a week, so I was worried about getting out of the condo I was renting by the time I said I would.  On top of that, Hurricane Sally was approaching the Gulf Coast.  And to make matters more stressful for me, I was the on-call guy at work for the week that my closing got pushed to.  We got our stuff moved in just before the weather deteriorated, all while working in between moving loads of stuff from one place to another.  And then the storm hit.  I worked a total of 17 days in a row.  I haven’t even come close to getting settled in yet at my new home.  But, I’m here, and I’m happy.  Things will fall into place as they will.  No hurry.

During my move I found many memories while packing.  It’s amazing to find stuff you haven’t seen in years and relive old times while going through closets and boxes.  One thing I found was a brick.  Just a simple, red brick.  It has no monetary value.  It’s not pretty or decorative.  But it might be the last one left of the bricks that were part of my grandparents’ house which was destroyed by Hurricane Katrina in 2005.  They had already sold that house at the end of Beach Bayou Rd in Biloxi, Mississippi years before, but my childhood memories of it still remained.

Grandma had all the Tupperware you would expect in a house during that era.  She had a tan sugar dish with a lid that opened on both sides.  Open one side and it pours out from a small hole; the other side was big enough to put a spoon in.  Of course, she had the orange pitcher with the push down lid.  Is Tupperware even a thing anymore?  Grandpa had a music room where he composed.  I don’t know if he did his paintings in there as well, or just his music.  I have all his music somewhere in a box that hasn’t been unpacked yet.  I always loved his music.  I have a number of his paintings as well, at least one of which is already hanging here at my new house. 

From when I was a child visiting my grandparents’ house, I can remember looking at the stars with my uncle out in the yard and him taking me on the water in his blue fiberglass boat; only time I’ve caught a shark.  I remember my aunt and cousins living in the next house up the road.  We had way too much fun as kids jumping ditches up and down the street.  Grandma would always fuss at us for that because of the snakes in the ditches.  We never got bit.  I remember the times my sister and I would spend the night at the red brick house on the bayou.  So many wonderful memories.  And all that’s left from that house is a brick. 

In 1969, Hurricane Camille devastated the Mississippi Coastal area.  At that time, it was one of the most intense hurricanes to make U.S. landfall.  It was a Category 5 storm. Camille brought 7 ½ feet of water into my grandparents’ home.  When the water receded and the sun came out, they cleaned and rebuilt.  As far as fixing the damage to their home, they left only the watermark in the detached laundry room as a reminder of how high the water had come.  Basically, their house was underwater except for the roof.  In 2005, when I finally got through on the phone to my grandparents after Katrina, I asked how it compared to Camille.  My grandfather told me Katrina made Camille look like an afternoon thunder storm. 

My first opportunity to go to Biloxi after Katrina was in early in 2007, for my grandfather’s funeral.  While there, I took my oldest boy and explored the area, giving him a glimpse into an early childhood chapter of my life.  We went by the old house on Beach Bayou Rd.  As we drove down to where the road disappears into the bayou, I couldn’t see the house.  It was gone.  Only the foundation and a few bricks that still made a small corner of the house remained.  I wanted to cry.  It was all gone.  Only the memories remain. 

I took a brick that day.  I still have it.  It just sits on a window sill in my bedroom at my new home.  It’s place at the condo I moved from was on the window sill in my bedroom there.  Before that, it was on the very top of a small wall unit in my now ex-wife’s house.  There’s no elaborate display for it.  No fancy case.  No markings as to where it came from or how it got here.  It’s just a brick.  But it’s all that’s left from some of my most cherished childhood memories.  It mostly stays out of sight, I barely notice it’s there.  Most days I don’t even think about it. 

Maybe our memories are like that brick.  Out of sight, out of mind.  Then once in a while we notice.  Something prompts us to take a walk down memory lane.  Hopefully good memories, but it can go both ways.  I hope your memories are like my brick, mostly good.  Thanks for enjoying my memories with me today.  Good day, God bless.

Dave