Ch-ch-ch-changes.

Hubby and I were talking the other night. He asked me if I wanted to stay here in this house (the house I inherited from my grandparents) permanently. After thinking about it, I had to say yes, I did.

Don’t get me wrong, I love our house. I love where it is. I live in paradise, just minutes from the Gulf beaches.

But…I was pretty much raised in this house. This house has always felt like home. And it is just five minutes from my parents. My cousin and his mom live, literally, next door. (Our grandmothers were sisters and lived next door to each other.) I have friends and family up here.

So it looks like we’ll be transitioning to living here full time instead of just through the holidays. That means trying to decide what to do with our house. Selling it right now is out of the question. We’re not underwater on it, but it’s not exactly a selling market. We might rent it, but not sure what we want to do with it yet.

Did I mention I have the world’s greatest husband to suggest this?

So once we get through the holidays, we’ll look at what our next steps will be. Fortunately, this house doesn’t have a mortgage on it, so it’s not like we’re paying double in that way. And we can add onto this house, which was our plan anyway, and make it bigger. (Although it’s not really much smaller than our other house, although the one bathroom situation is a little irritating at times. LOL)

My animals are happy here, especially the cat, BW, and the bird, Pickles, who were Granny and Grandaddy’s pets. My other animals could care less which house we’re at.

So another stage of my life begins. This should be interesting. In a good way.