Wednesday, February 2, 2011

On a Whim

I found myself living on the beach in Southern California, yards away from the sand.  How did I get there?  Strangely, I did not consider it my home.  We moved there on a whim.  Doing anything on a whim is the last thing in my character, but I am finding that people can change.  We lived in Long Beach, California in a nice neighborhood.  The house was perfect in every way.  My husband and I had bought a fixer of a house.  We practically gutted the entire thing.  The kitchen, bathrooms, master bedroom- all ripped out.  It took us years to complete, as we did the work ourselves- scraping cottage cheese off of ceilings, sanding, painting, constructing, etc.  The final product was a quaint, delightful home.  Everything was the way I had planned it.  It turned out exactly what I wished for.


The phone rang, my father on the other end of the line.  "Janna, if you want to sell your house, I have prequalified buyers who I think would be interested in buying it."  "What in the world?"  I thought to myself.  I would be crazy to want to sell something that we had put so much of our hearts and souls into completing.  What came out of my mouth surprised even me.  "Go ahead and send them over, Dad."

Within a week, my house was sold.  We were moving to the beach one month later.

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