Tomorrow we sign on the dotted line, to buy the perfect property for my man and me. We'll eventually have a house with three hundred sixty degree views of water: the lake to the front, the marsh to the rear. I'm not sure what could be more perfect.
We're nervous, but also so excited to have found something in the same island subdivision that we enjoyed pre-Katrina. It wasn't our plan to build a house; all I wanted was a plot on which to park an RV. Richard, on the other hand, wants a neighborhood. Our lives never work out quite as we have planned; I never intended to own our present home. Que sera sera; whatever will be will be.
The reality is that our RV needs an engine before it can be moved anywhere, and the coastal area has really clamped down on where one can park a mobile home. RV parks charge several hundred dollars a month, so it wasn't going to be an inexpensive ordeal. In for a penny; in for a pound. We'll be in for several tons.
Richard is absolutely enthralled with his work on the PT boat for the World War II Museum. The Higgins Society project manager has asked him to be an integral part of the organization of the refurbishing of this water craft. With the Higgins PT boat measuring seventy-eight feet long, he'll now have bragging rights to the biggest boat of anyone in either of our neighborhoods. And how many of our friends' boats boast over four thousand horses of power? I'm also pretty sure none of their boats ever took a torpedo hit.
While Richard is working for "the war effort," I guess I'll be figuring out where we'll live. The house in Coker Creek, when it thaws, may become a vacation rental. Meanwhile, I'll be looking for a temporary house here in Louisiana, as most apartments don't allow dogs the size of small horses to reside in them. Our Great Pyrenees is ninety-six pounds of fur and drool. We don't know if she'll survive a summer as an outside dog, so we may need to include an air-conditioned dog house in our home design.
You may think that living on the water will keep our puppy cool, but eight inch fur isn't conducive to taking a dip in the lake. The one time Gypsy Woman tried following our daughter's dog into our pond, she became so heavy that our daughter had to drag her to shore. Esther Williams she ain't.
I'm still hoping that some miracle will allow us to live part time in two places, with or without two homes. Maybe we'll become summer vacation renters in the beautiful mountains of Tennessee.