I’m waiting for my new house to show up and I’m not particularly patient with the process.
When I read about hermit crabs this summer, I was reminded they line up for new shells. Nature lets them know a larger crab is moving on – to a bigger shell or to that cosmic, starlit beach on Vega. Successive hermits line up, I imagine it’s not a formal line-up-for-communion line but some crabby sort of conga line, locate the next empty shell and crawl in. Oh yeah, life goes on.
I’m in line for my new shell but – sigh – I’m a bit pickier than the average crab. The next larger shell is not for me. I’m looking for a smaller space than Calais Avenue house in Las Cruces, New Mexico. But it’s got to feel just right with more windows, an open floor plan, set in or near nature. And wouldn’t it be nice if it sat on the beach and had pine trees on three sides.
Holly, my realtor, is patiently working with me to find the right shell. We’ve driven the Valparaiso and Chesterton, Indiana markets – about 25 miles east on Highway 30 from where I sit in my sister’s house. This afternoon we’re looking around Crown Point, Indiana, which is action central for my family. I know I’ll find the perfect place at the perfect time and at the perfect price.
Note to Universe: Now would be a perfect time if you ask me.
It’s been about five weeks since Aw’gy and I left New Mexico. I have no regrets about leaving Las Cruces. In fact, it couldn’t have been better – for so many reasons: living in the Land of Enchantment, making great friends, discovering new talents, eating the best Mexican food – bar none. But, but, but … while Holly is patient with me, I’m impatient with the process that I set in place!
And I’m starting to get crabby. I know it’s my issue and I know this is all part of my journey and I know I uprooted myself but I want to be settled in my new space and I want it now. So will the next crab kindly move on, because it’s all about me, right?
