The worst thing about a long distance relationship is, of course, the distance. Since getting married last October, my wife Jayne and I have had exactly six days together. Granted this is something we’ve long accepted and know will be ending early November, but it’s still a burden.
But one bright spot is when I finally do move it will be to a brand new house. After a fair amount of searching, and enjoying the tours of several model homes, we found a new development only a couple miles from where she lives now. It’s upscale, and far beyond anything either of us thought we would ever be calling home. It has four bedrooms, two baths, industrial strength air conditioning, garage with an extension for a workshop, combination of tile and hardwood floors, humidity control to go along with the air conditioning, granite countertops with tile splash in the kitchen, air conditioning that could freeze Hades, marble countertops and showers in the bathrooms, a jetted tub in one bathroom, and a Tuscany style interior with large windows and more arches than the Roman Coliseum. And did I mention it comes with a great air conditioner?
And the price? Let’s just say I delight in the screams of anguish from Californians who would be lucky to get a studio condo in a bad neighborhood for the same price. Jayne is already working on the décor for the house, and she has excellent taste. Left to me it would have the look of a garage sale gone bad. But I will have the Garage Mahal to call my own, providing I can figure how to make it bearable in summer. Plus I’ll have one room reserved as my office, or Man Cave, where only the bold dare set foot. Jayne gets the rest of the house as compensation.
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