We might be moving. Ok, we more than likely will be moving. This might not seem like a big deal especially considering all the times we've moved over the last forty plus years, but this move feels different. It's not young people with children moving. It's old people moving. For the uninformed, it's an entirely different kind of move.
We're trying to decide what we want our lives to look like for the next twenty plus years. Well, hopefully twenty plus. Do the chickens and piggies have to be rehomed? This breaks my heart. I love these guys and have a responsibility to give them the good life I promised them and the life they deserve. Before anyone starts with the "they're just animals" talk, please don't for your own safety. They deserve for the life I've given them the last six years to continue until they are old and cranky like me.
So, if we do rehome the critters, other than the dogs and cats, where do we move? Do we stay in Florida? Move to Georgia? Buy a property in both so we can be snowbirds? That's so old people! What do we want our life to look like? Beach condo? Another mini farm? We don't know!! The topic of moving has been pretty much all Bob and I talk about in the evenings for months now. It feels hard and scary and maybe a bit exciting at the same time. We're too old for this craziness. I just want to go buy my cow and stay put until a miraculous sign from God shows me the way.
Wouldn't that be great if we could just ask God what to do and He made the decision crystal clear on our time schedule? That is definitely not the way He works. So, Bob and I will keep discussing what to do in the evenings after dinner and praying about what to do during the day. Of course, one of us will stay up late night after night fretting over what to do and it won't be the one that snores like a freight train.
Who would have thought we would be trying to figure out who we are and where we should live in our sixties? Again, first world problem.
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