In 1991 with a baby and toddler in tow, we moved into our 1950’s tri level tucked away in an older section of a Milwaukee suburb primarily because we wanted to send our children to a public school and this particular school district is ranked as one of the best in the state. When we saw the house, we liked the big yard, hardwood floors and two lannon-stone fireplaces. The finished basement seemed like a nice bonus at the time. What a great play area for the kids, or so we thought. Unfortunately, we did not realize the paneling was hiding some serious flaws.
Both of our children did receive a top-notch college prep education. They were challenged academically without being coddled or spoon-fed and had wonderful opportunities along the way.
Life here has been good; however, basically, I’m a city person. I like the vibrancy of the city, the diversity, mixing of cultures and ideas, sidewalks, parks, neighborhoods, smaller lawns that don’t take 2 hours to mow or driveways that don’t seem to go on forever when they’re buried under 8 inches of snow and you’re stuck sizing up the damage with a shovel in your hand.
Still, something can be said for the quiet, a lower crime rate and I do admit while a big yard can be a pain, sometimes it is nice to be able to chill in your back yard and listen to the birds sing without a neighbor breathing down your neck. Ahh….nothing is perfect and sometimes we have to pick and choose.
Twenty years later, the children grown and I’m a widow with multiple spine problems facing a house and yard I can no longer manage. Time to move on. So the story of my basement from hell begins….
No comments:
Post a Comment