I don't think the lovely hills of southern Indiana are going to happen for us. So here I sit, stuffing my face because I'm stressed and disappointed. There comes a time when you wonder if you're just too darn old to move. Between the two of us we don't even have one good back. Maybe a vacation spot would be better---keep the house, go somewhere for fresh air and quiet relaxation. Easier said than done. Where? It's all stinky cities or freakin' cornfields around here. I am allergic to cornfields, by the way. One thought was move for the summer, then we don't have to drive back and forth. Uhh...no. We can't just leave the house unoccupied, there's no one to watch it, and I would have to bring my cats and all my plants. I can't leave my violet collection alone all summer. Even if it wasn't for the violets, I can't leave the house all summer. And what about my work? So we're back to thinking about driving back and forth. And then we have to think about taking care of two places. Ugh.
I can talk about what would "be nice" but won't happen. It would be nice to be closer to family. It would nice to live where I can attend an African Violet club. It would be nice to enjoy some fresh air and a bit of a nice view before we're in a nursing home. Crap, it would be nice to win the lottery.
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