Life Turns on a Dime

The family had already crammed in the car by the time I slid in.  I didn't say much, just put the old gas guzzler in reverse and backed out.

"Life turns on a dime," my wife said.

Like a hog in mud, I wallowed in a rut of self pity. The beat down routine of rear entry garages, perfect little homes on postage stamp lots, traffic, corporate slug work and chauffeur duties had taken its toll.  I was ready to leave it all behind, pitch a tent and plant a garden somewhere far away.

"Does it?"  I replied.

It didn't matter too much, though, because it was Sunday afternoon, and I had absolutely NOTHING to do.  We decided to go to downtown McKinney for lunch.

"Can we go to Juarez, Dad?"

"Sure", I replied.  The food was really good, and affordable.  Plus, I really liked downtown McKinney.  Julie and I had gone there on a date several years ago, and I was hooked.  It always made me think of what an American town should be like.  There was a town square surrounded by shops and restaurants.  People actually walked around.  Sometimes we drove around the historic neighborhood checking out all of the old homes.  I always wondered if we would ever be "lucky" enough to live in a place like that.

Heading home after lunch we rolled west down Virginia.  That's when we hit it; the dime in the form of a little sign advertising an open house.

"Do you want to check it out?" I asked.

"Ugh, sure," Julie answered, not realizing we had just run into the dime she prophesied.

"Let's go! Let's go!"  The shouts echoed from the backseat.

So, we took a sharp right, and then another and parked behind a row of cars on a tree lined street. From behind a blooming crepe myrtle arose a yellow Queen Anne Victorian with a wrap around porch.  As we entered a young real estate agent greeted us with a smile.

Stepping through the front door was like passing through a portal to another time and place.  Tall ceilings, tile lined fireplaces, hardwood floors, pocket doors and a squeaky staircase all combined to give us a quick sense of home.  The backyard was a far cry from our postage stamp.  A forest of pecan and mulberry trees greeted us.  It was so forested, I couldn't see the fence line..

I became blind to my life and responsibilities.  Maybe it was because of my rut.  Maybe I'm just a dreamer, but I was hooked.  For some strange reason we were drawn to every quirky nuance.  I even thought the un-level, spongy floors upstairs were amazing.  I knew at that moment life would be different. I just didn't realize how much.

In the car on the way home I looked over at Julie. "We are going to live here," I said.

Julie didn't look at me, but turned around to the backseat. "Kids, you have to remember, your dad thinks out loud,"

We had hit the dime.