I know, I know–I live in Chicago. Why am I complaining about cold? I also know that I could move, like my partner Dick Baran down to AZ. So why don’t I?
There are several reasons. First, we’d have to sell this place that we’re in. Chances aren’t good that we’d even get what what we paid for the damn thing. When the Weavers got sick, we went into a home equity loan to help out and make a house possible for them. When they died, we couldn’t sell it and eventually had to surrender the deed for it. Never learn, I guess.
Second, I know this area. We have a great church, fine friends, movie night, a good jogging route, and–I think this is important–a history here. This townhouse will be paid for in five or six years, we’ll be out of debt shortly thereafter–maybe not a bad place to live out my life.
Third, our family is here. I’ve written about my two kids and my grandchildren. Cara and Ella spent a few days with us–it was great.
My golf league; my Friday bible study; my Saturday Bible study; ushering at the Saturday 5:00 service; eating out with friends. The Wheeling teacher reunions.
We had lunch today with Steve and Shao-Li. They’re moving to Panama and tremendously excited about it. What a wonderful couple–their happiness is so contagious. Other that CJ, our neighbors are fine and I get to serve them as a delegate to the association board. John and Donna live near; my siblings aren’t far;
And I live with the best woman in the world.

Why do I want to move again?
Oh yeah. The cold.
Ah. I can take it.


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