FINIS

This all started with Loose Change, Dan’s desire to move south and my need to process what that meant. I’m now at the end of this journey. Not quite where I had planned, “a sunset viewing from Mallory Square in Key West”, but close enough. At the time I said, “My inertia comes from other places that I need to explore. Extended family, a multitude of friends, community and neighborhood, a great job, a house I love and a feeling of stability I'm afraid to uproot.”

I know now that wasn’t true. I lacked (we both lacked) the catalyst required to make a big change. For my 17 loyal readers you know that the catalyst triggered over a year ago when my 15-year position ended with my employer in Milwaukee. We were faced with a choice – find suitable replacement income in the area, or move. Dan and I chose to move, because if not then, when?

Was it easy? No. We went insane for a while, dramatically downsizing (but in hindsight, not quite enough). Internet searches found us a rental that would take a big dog and landed us in a 624-square-foot house. And can I just say that people who want to live in a tiny house are bat-shit crazy.

It’s been a wild, scary, lonely, and exhilarating year. We found a new home in a community that we love. I’ve found a terrific job doing work that energizes me. We’ve both met new people and are starting to add to our collection of friends (there’s always room for more). And we are settling in to our new home, our new environment and the consequences of our decision to move.

Did we lose things along the way? Yes, proximity to family and friends, familiar routines, faces and places, and the comfort of knowing every street and landmark. Have we gained things? Again, yes. Dan is finally warm year-round, we know we can meet any challenge and we’ve found out that our children are our biggest role models and cheerleaders. (Shout-out to Carl and Hunter for great advice along the way!)

So here we are, just a 428-mile drive from Mallory Square, in a very lovely community. We have great neighbors, we found a welcoming coven of liberal thinkers and we enjoy the lifestyle of year-round warm. I’ve had the opportunity to reconnect with cousins who’ve included us in family gatherings even though we were quite distant before we landed here in Florida, and for that we are both grateful.

Change is hard. Big change is really hard. But it can be done, even if all you start with is loose change.

Songs that Resonate:

Photograph - Nickelback (for Carl and Hunter)

100 Years - Five for Fighting

Agnes Was Well Loved and Raised Chickens

Dan has learned this from the neighbors: There’s Mary next door (her dad bought the lot where her house stands today for $150), DeeDee (and her daughter’s puppy) across the street, Woody (his father built “most of the neighborhood”), Ed (leaf removal for $25 bucks), Chris (man-bun with shaved sides), Jack (beyond wrinkled) and Jeff who came by to rent a ladder. Dan’s been talking (I’ve been listening) and has been informed that Agnes lived here for about 20-years. She raised chickens in a fenced in area of the yard and her husband lived here occasionally, when he wasn’t incarcerated. This is 3^rd Avenue NE in Largo, Florida, the temporary location of Villa Johnson South.

724 3rd Ave NE  Largo, FL  33770

We landed here on Monday, March 25^th at 9:30 in the morning. The street is a quiet cul-de-sac, the trash is picked up twice weekly and we are close to a lot of shopping options. The beach is a quick 10-minute drive away. We quickly connected with cousins who live in the vicinity. We take walks around the neighborhood, I’ve gotten a library card and overall it’s been a gentle landing.

This house is a glorious 624-square feet, with eight windows, five rooms, three closets, and two points of ingress/egress. The realtor measured our former living room as 20’ X 25’. That’s 500 square feet. Add 124 more and you’ve got this house. Halfway through unloading the truck the guys had to stop bringing things into the house because we couldn’t move around.

#1 - Living Room (Dog added for scale)

#2 - Kitchen (Dan and dog added for scale)

#3 - Bathroom, after plumbing fix

Day one I made the serious mistake of thinking the toilet was functional. Yes, Carl, poop is still funny, but never so funny as when it backs up into your bathtub. And a good seven hours later we got the plumber’s diagnosis, too much toilet paper, three squares only, please! He’s been here twice, because, as it turns out Agnes hasn’t lived here for over five years, and the large tree in the back yard has invaded all available pipes. Every time we flush we cross our fingers. (Dan note: Agnes died on January 5, 2010 at 3:30 am in a hospice. Her kids came at two that afternoon and took what they wanted. The house sat empty for five years. Thanks neighbor Mary for the info and sorry you have to live with your grandson’s girlfriend who is a hoarder.)

Backyard-buried treasure

Our first Sunday was spent digging, uncovering a walkway between the house and the laundry “annex” after removing three inches of dirt and dead leaves. Florida is buried treasure country, right? Second Monday, and the plumber is here again to investigate why the washer (four towels max) causes soapy water to bubble up in the newly revealed exterior plumbing stack.

The one thing I am worried about is dental care. According to the National Institute of Dental & Craniofacial Research, the average adult between the ages of 20 and 64 has 24.92 remaining teeth. After having four removed during orthodontia and four wisdom teeth removed, I have 24. I’m already below the average. And based on the neighbors we’ve met, this street is definitely on the lower end of the bell curve.

(Dan edits: Before we moved here, Paula and I discussed at length that this was an opportunity to reinvent ourselves. We didn’t have to be the old Dan and Paula, or the old Ripley. As I’ve walked through the Home Depot, Lowes, Winn Dixie or Publix, I am encountering tons of old white people. TONS. The guys in the new Mercedes or BMW convertibles are even older. Seriously dude, if you are intimidated by a straight six 1960 Ranchero on the highway, you need to be in a golf cart.

The axiom that Florida is “Death’s Waiting Room” is true. But this neighborhood is not. It’s like our first house in Riverwest, when money was tight, good beer was rare, but parties were constant. This is a young, vibrant, but poorer part of town. We have lived in a stratified atmosphere for many years, when picking up the tab was easier than figuring out who had the iced tea and who had the appetizer. When people asked how much something cost and I had no idea. When neighbors owning a brewery or large business were passé. “Of course we’ll be in Mexico diving this year.” “Have you SEEN what the rates went up to at Pier House in Key West?” When having four cars seemed—too few (there was one glorious day I had seven).

This is a young, friendly, vibrant neighborhood where every introduction ends in “Now if you need a hand with anything…”

No, we won’t talk politics, or orthodontia, or why parking on the lawn is bad, or why your rottie/pit-bull seems to bark all the time. Ripley is acting like a puppy with all of the new kids in the neighborhood. My young snaggle-tooth neighbor Chris correctly identified the Ranchero as 1960, and guessed that the taillights were Buick, “1961?” 1960. “We bleed blue on this block” was his response.

Wisconsin Dan, unfortunately, would have broad-brushed these folks as, well, I am embarrassed to say. Florida Dan, who is on a tight budget until one of us has a job, is seeing things a lot differently. When my neighbor Jeff asked today to rent my ladder (he had a $200 hedge trimming job but didn’t have a ladder!) I said take it, and he offered his driver’s license as collateral. He offered $25, but I said make it a 12-pack and we’ll share it. He returned the ladder tonight—the beer is forthcoming. Florida Dan is cool with that. What’s the rush?

We’ve made the move. We have a lot to learn about living in Florida and about ourselves. Change isn’t easy, and big changes are the hardest of all. While we live in Agnes’ house and get to know her neighbors, the former beneficiaries of free eggs, we will be open to reinvention and the kindness of strangers.