Homes, Sweet Homes

Running on fumes after the trip to Italy, but wanted to make contact again with all the fans of C?WC? Many posts to follow on the trip, once the Minneapolis excursion to see the Sox is done. What hit me today is that I’ve had about ten days of different homes. Started the trip with a quick visit to the childhood home, saw the new-home-to-be (fingers crossed) in West Haven on the way to JFK, had the home-away-from-home in Valenza, and then came back to Sweet Home Chicago.

Copped this from the little woman's blog...

Copped this from the little woman's blog...

Dig those solar panels! My guess--some fairly rich city types decided to pull a Green Acres and put a lot of  money into this place.

Cascina Nuova: Dig those solar panels! My guess--some fairly rich city types decided to pull a Green Acres and put a lot of money into this place.

No thoughts about the family homestead; I’ve talked about that briefly before. The possible new home? Looks good, needs some work (nobody besides me noticed that the fridge blocks about ¼ of the doorway into the kitchen? At least the current owners are die-hard Red Sox fans; we won’t have to perform any exorcisms if the deal goes through). Valenza, or more specifically, the Cascina Nuova, was perfect: the space I needed to keep my sanity, a very modern little kitchen, balconies, easy access to everywhere we wanted to be. My mother moaned about the lack of fresh towels every day, but I was OK with that (the towels, not the moaning). The cleanliness factor could have been taken up a notch, but I’ve stayed at stateside B&B’s just as dusty/cobwebby, if not worse.

No words necessary...

No words necessary...

Then there was coming back to Chicago. I really am accepting of the move back east, on most levels. I think there could be some cool things about the new town/area. But when I stood in a store at Midway after returning this morning, and I saw a panorama of the city skyline adorning the walls, I sighed. “This is home,” I thought. “But not for long.” Then there was the arrival at the real home, with the crying cat greeting me at the door. Just a few more weeks to go. Weeks of craziness, with packing and work and moving and worrying over the last details of everything surrounding all that.

It will be good to sleep in my own bed tonight, as it always is after a trip, even the best of trips. And it won’t take long for me to feel at home in our new place; for me, it never does. But I will never see that skyline again and feel the sense of familiarity, ownership even, that I have now. I’m not sure I can ever return, once the move is done. Too many longings would be stirred that could never be met. But I’ve had these five years of calling Chicago home, and I will always cherish that.

Advertisements

~ by mburgan on May 26, 2009.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: