It’s hard to believe March has arrived already. March. That means spring is almost here, and with spring should come new beginnings. Well, we may have one to report. We’re 90% sure of it anyway.
It seems that the Reproducing Genius family may finally be moving to a little home in the country in our favorite town. BG and I viewed this tiny little duplex on an acre and a half of land this past week (J was, sadly, teaching at the time), and it was cute–tiny, but cute. The land, though–oh the land. The back yard is sprawling and huge and has fruit trees (the lemon tree was just dripping with lemons). The road it’s on is this quiet, lovely country road lined with old oak trees. It’s so serene and just plain pretty there. The inside of the house is, as I said, tiny, but we can manage tiny. We would have a garage in which to store things that didn’t fit into the house. And we would have ample space to stretch out on our shared acre-and-a-half. Yes, it’s a nice chunk of land on which we could garden–where we could even have some chickens if we so desired. It’s dreaming kind of land.
When I was looking at the place and chatting with the owner, I mentioned my partner, and I used the feminine pronoun. A few minutes later, the owner said, “You know, my partner is a teacher too. She teaches kindergarten.” She half-smiled at me. Ahhhh…family! We finished off the rest of our tour as another potential tenant arrived, and she gave me an application. Later she emailed me and urged me to send our application. Later that night, after I sent the application, she wrote back to tell us she would probably be renting to us. Then yesterday came, and she wanted to talk on the phone. She told me that when people call about the property, she tells them it’s rented, that she just needs to see if our information checks out, that J needs to see the place Sunday, and then we can give her a deposit. Just like that.
But then she asked how old we were. I told her, curious about why she asked. Then she said, “And which of you carried your son?” I told her I did. “Oh good! You’ve got time to have another. See, we waited too long to have our daughter, so we couldn’t have a second.”
So that’s how it has gone down. We might have a cool place to move to in the country at the end of the month for less than what we pay for this apartment. And our new landladies are lesbian moms. And did I mention it’s across the street from a vineyard. It’s almost too much to bear.
Please keep us in your thoughts that the next twenty-four hours bring good news.