I feel as if I should start documenting this adventure, this journey we have decided to embark upon. A couple of months ago, Jeremiah and I visited good college friends in Arizona. The long weekend was filled with not too old memories, indulgent coffee shop breakfasts, margaritas at 3 p.m. and patio politics. As we sat at a spring training game in 90 degree sun that didn’t make me sweat, I felt like something was changing. I felt like it was safe to say, I could live here. I could risk things, and do something I never thought I’d do, and just up and move. Well, while my husband, who has been talking about moving forever, looked at me like I was an alien for the next 48 hours, we discussed the pros and cons with our recently displaced Midwestern friends. We talked about the unbelievably good deals on houses out there, how unbearable the Phoenix summers really were or were not, and what kinds of plants I could grow in my new desert garden.
I was ready to chalk it up to being caught in the moment, until the feeling of wanting to go did not subside after a few days of being home, a few weeks, and even a few months. So now here we are…inching towards the edge of the canyon, making plans to jump. We have contacted our friends’ realtor, and our weekends are spent lingering on realtor.com, looking to see if the house of our dreams awaits us. Something has changed, and I’m not sure what exactly, but let the adventure begin.
