Homeless

As of the end of this week, we are officially no longer home owners.  We are, technically, homeless, although we're cozily nestled in Subversive Dad's parents place for as long as we need to (or, more accurately, until we drive each other crazy).

I have mixed feelings about this.  It's a bittersweet feeling as that condo held a lot of great memories.  It was our first owned home, a place I had complete freedom to paint and renovate as I liked.  We brought home Ghost, our first dog together, because we were finally living somewhere without dog restrictions, and we had Zuul.  

Home is somewhere int he background, Ghost, Zuul and I are breaking the law in Old Mill Park.

With the arrival of Zuul, it became clear that we had outgrown our first home, but the area was perfect for first time parents.  Everything we needed was a short walk:  parks, rec centre, library, groceries, toy stores, clothing stores, doctors, dentists, optometrists, restaurants, EVERYTHING.  I was content in this little bubble of convenience as it catered to my incredibly lazy nature.  

Then opportunity knocked.  Subversive Dad took a job on Vancouver Island, which meant an actual house would be affordable and we'd be close to family.  Zuul would get to grow up with cousins and her grandparents, something I missed out on in my childhood and desperately wanted for her.

We've been here since December, and while Subversive Dad loves being back home, I'm suffering from a bit of culture shock. 

While we don't have all the conveniences we had in Port Moody, most things are a short walk away, but I do miss little luxuries like sidewalks, enclosed dog parks, paved nature trails, mountain views and buildings with character.

We had a date night on Saturday, cocktails and appies at a chain restaurant who's Vancouver hours I was familiar with, so I was confused when we left at 10:30 p.m. and staff was locking the doors.  Driving through town, I noticed all the bistros we passed were empty at that time, but Wal-Mart is open 24 hours.  Alrighty then.

Aside from the drivers that seem intent on killing us, everyone's really chatty and nice.  It's a place where random acts of kindness are the norm, where I've witness scary looking teens bravely call out peers when they say something not very PC, where the Green Party are actually respected and hold ridings.  This is the kind of utopia most modern day parents would dream to raise their children in.  On the other hand, the chit chat also slows things down considerably at check outs, which has tested my yuppy patience more than I want to admit.

So, now that the Mainland chapter of my life is closing, we have some choices to make.  Will we buy a proper house as we had always fantasized about, or will we rent for a while until fate decides for sure that Victoria is really where we are meant to be?  There are pros and cons to both situations.  At this point, all I care about is having a place to call my own again, to once again be in full control.  Not that I don't appreciate all that the family has done for us, but it's true when they say "you can't go home again.". I'm really hoping that once we're in our own place again, whether paying a mortgage or rent, I will finally feel settled and can fully embrace Victoria and all it's sleepy quirks.

Port Moody will always have my heart, but home is wherever Subversive Dad and Zuul are, and that's what's important.

I miss this boardwalk more than anything, even though I always feared Ghost would pull us into the inlet.