The Street Where You Live

I don't know my address. I actually don't even know the name of the street I live on. I can give you about half a dozen landmarks and the name of my apartment building to help you find me, but in Dubai, they don't really do addresses. One of the reasons we decided to give this whole Dubai thing a chance was because of the housing crisis in Arizona, but now that it is really behind us, I'm a little sad.

We rented our house out for the first year we were gone, but as things continued to go south with the banks and the mortgage, when we were home this summer, we decided it was time to sell. It was hard walking through our house after someone else's family had lived there, and seeing the changes, and damages, and dog poop on the floor in my baby's bedroom. Nate's yard that he had worked so hard on was pretty much destroyed out of neglect, and in some ways those bad things made it easier to know we were selling.

Now, after many months of hassle and international phone calls, unexpected expenses and stress, Nightingale Road is no longer a place we can call home. I wanted to post a bunch of pictures of the house, and our projects, but I think it was a good thing that they are all stored in a not so accessible place, so I will think back on the beautiful nursery my friend Kellie and I created, and the awesome yard that I never took full advantage of, and my clock wall that I still miss, and my kitchen with lots of cupboards and counter space, and big sink and dishwasher, and my laundry room dedicated just to laundry, my rosebushes on the driveway, and all the memories Nate and I created there as we started our family.

So, today, take a moment and look around at the street where you live, and the home you have created with your family, and appreciate it. I am appreciating my apartment even while I miss where we came from, and trying to remember that there will be another chance to take a home and make it our own.