Okay, so the first piece of good news I’m busy not getting too excited about is that my parents have rejoined the landed gentry. They sold Bluegum, the house I grew up in, four years ago. The last evening I spent at that house was a joyful family dinner in anticipation of my wedding. Even the brushtail possums dropped by:
In 1997 Mum and Dad saw a documentary called Grey Nomads, about retirees who hit the road. A couple of weeks later Dad said to Mum: “I’ve been thinking about that doco…” “Me too,” said Mum. Three months later they’d traded Mum’s superannuation for a Winnebago fitted out like a land yacht, and they’ve been on the move ever since.
It’s a good life, and they seem to have made more and more congenial friends in the last seven years than they did in the whole 29 years they lived at Bluegum. Part of the plan was that they’d keep an eye out for an optimal place to maybe settle someday. Last week they finally found a bush block they like, in Glenwood, north of Gympie:
Isn’t it gorgeous? I’m so happy for them and I can’t wait to see it for myself. I miss my family every day and dream about them all the time. I love San Francisco and the life we’ve made here, but it’s a long way from where I grew up.