We scour the map. Every night. We spend hours in front of the screen perusing real estate sites. We've nearly memorized Money Magazine's top 100 places to live. I already boxed up the books on the shelves in our room. I'm stashing Huggies boxes like a maniac. I've stopped buying condiments for the refrigerator door. Yes...the countdown has begun, if only in my head.
Then, today, the kids and I made a bank run. As the capsule began its descent back I realized I had forgotten to ask for the suckers that my kids have come to associate with such an errand. Darn. Then, along side my grocery cash was two little dum dum suckers--one grape, one blue raspberry. Lucy, "I got purple!". Seth, "Are raspberries blue?" I was nearly (but not truly) choked up. My bank teller recognized me. Perhaps it was the DC (Dodge Caravan) that gave us away. Perhaps it was our now weekly stop to withdraw budgeted "envelope cash". But, I like to think that we have made a place for ourselves in this little community (though Phoenix is not so little). Then, I got a little sad about leaving. We've been here over two years. It takes me a long time to nestle into a niche and feel like a community contributor whose community also contributes to her.
Maybe when the dart finally pierces the map on the wall and we settle on a spot--THE spot, then I will not hold back so much and my nestling time will be cut significantly. I think so. And yet, will the bank tellers there be as good as the bank tellers have turned out to be here?
Above: One of the contenders for our next locale...can you guess where this is?? Anyone who hits it on the nose gets my latest ever so radical mix tape (okay its actually a CD) in the mail!! Whooyah!