Seven years ago yesterday we moved here. Seven years ago today we signed the papers and bought this house.
I hated the idea of moving. I was happy where I was, I had friends, family, familiar routines. The condo townhouse we owned had everything we needed except space, and Scott's job was here. So I sucked it up, I assured two very apprehensive children that everything would be okay, that we'd find a way, some way, to make this practically unknown area our home. I tried to convince myself at the same time, but I was doubtful.
When we arrived late in the night, the keys were, as promised, above the door. We dragged in, cleaned up, and slept on the floor. The next day, August 24th, we drove one town over, signed the papers and dug ourselves the biggest money pit ever. ;o) Not really.
The day after the truck arrived with our stuff and the kids started school (Aug 25th) I gave in to the sick I'd been holding off for the move. Fever, chills, no voice, no will to live. And I fell in love with the crushed ice maker on our fridge. Reheating a cup of tea several nights later, I knew, I just *knew* that I wanted to live in this house for the rest of my days. Maybe it was the fever, huh? This house, for sure, but for weeks after, I wished I could pick it up and drop it right back into our old Waterloo neighbourhood.
But that didn't happen, and without my realizing it, this little town became home very, very quickly. I cannot imagine, now, moving back to Canada, as much as I will always consider myself Canadian. Sure getting anything involves a 45 minute drive, and getting *some* things is nearly impossible, but I've adjusted.