Welp, looks like it’s official: We’re moving.
Monday we had the furnace guy out. Yesterday the appraiser visited. This afternoon we’re expecting the window guy. Last week our buyer had her professional home inspection and we chose countertops for the new house.
We should probably start packing.
This is an exciting move, but still it’s bittersweet.
This modest home was our first in Bozeman: The first outside the familiar security of our hometown. It is filled to the brim with precious, sweet memories.
I’ll miss it.
I will miss Little Man’s alcove in our master bedroom– though I’m hopeful for more sleep as he “graduates” to his own room.
I’ll miss the backyard that has hosted several birthdays, the living room that has hosted many a camp-out.
I’ll miss transforming the girls’ room into a B&B for our steady stream of visitors, temporarily relocating the girls into the nest that is our master bedroom.
I’ll miss the trees husband planted, the flowers I have fought to keep alive, and my raised garden beds.
More than all that, though, I will miss our neighbors.
Neighbors who promptly greeted us mere minutes after pulling in with our moving van, two and a half years ago.
Neighbors who then swiftly emptied the contents of said moving van into our new home.
The notorious scooter-gang that parades back and forth down our sidewalks.
Cora’s eager knock at the door; dollies in the front yard.
Jessica’s popping over to babysit at a moment’s notice.
Flute and piano lessons from Marilee, just two doors down.
Pies of every variety, from Linda’s kitchen.
Husband shooting the breeze with Dan in the driveway; each ever vying to mow the other’s lawn or shovel their sidewalk.
Holly’s offers to watch the kiddos so I can prep for showings, forever baking the best dang cookies this side of the Rocky Mountains.
Marilee zipping our oldest to computer class so I wouldn’t have to wake Little Man after he’d finally drifted off to sleep.
Watching little Sam master a new milestone nearly every time we see him.
Reaping sage advice (and scrumptious spoils) from Jill’s prolific garden.
Julia and her endless array of colorful hats.
Last week, while holed up in the minivan during the buyer’s home inspection, three different neighbors texted, insisting we take refuge in their homes upon spying us parked around the corner.
One neighbor offered to clean our house for us after we leave, so we can “focus on the new place”.
These people simply know How To Neighbor. I might resort to taking them all with us– if even against their will.
These are just the most recent pics of the happenings here on Goldenrod. I don’t have the heart to look through the archives.
Here’s hoping our new neighbors are even half as awesome.
“There is nothing in the world so good as good neighbors.” -Caroline Ingalls