The nomadic life

I know that the "general wisdom" has always been, own your own home. Don't waste your money on rentals. And I've followed that advice on several occasions. Although, to be honest, while I was still married, we rented more than we owned. It worked better for us during those years, because we moved so frequently that reselling would have been difficult, if not impossible. Before our daughter was born, we were pretty much nomads, much to our parents' distress. Actually, even after our daughter's birth, that didn't change too much. My mother once complained that she was going to give us our own address book, just to hold all our address changes. We moved from apartment to house, and then to another city; and the pattern repeated itself.

Our first years we lived in Oak Ridge while my husband was in school at UT-K, and then he got a job with Boeing in Seattle, and we moved across country in our new Jeep, taking a friend as passenger who wanted to go to California and find an exciting new life. We were all very young, I keep reminding myself. It was an adventure, and it was fun. We lived in Seattle for three years, and in those years, we lived in four residences--an apartment on Mercer Island, a house in north Seattle, a farmhouse on Vashon Island, and another house in the Green Lake area. Then we moved back to Tennessee, so our new daughter could have time with her grandparents. Also, Boeing was in the throes of one of their frequent layoffs, only this one was major. Eventually, our Seattle friends told us of the big sign saying, "Will the last one to leave Seattle please turn off the lights."

Back in Tennessee, we lived in first an apartment in Oak Ridge, then a different house, while my husband returned to school in a different field (from metallurgical engineering to archaeology). Somewhere in there we lived in a trailer and married student housing. I have truly lost track of all our places of residence. Finally, we went to University of Idaho for graduate school, and again an apartment, followed by a farmhouse out in the country. All rentals, of course. After graduate school for him, it was my turn to finish my interrupted undergraduate degree, which was done at UT-K, while we lived in Oak Ridge again, and then moved to Knoxville, into the first "home of our own." We didn't stay long there either, of course, as it was time for him to get a "real job," instead of temporary employment as contract archaeologist or director of archaeology summer field schools. Permanent employment came from the State of Tennessee, in Nashville, necessitating another move. A year in a rental house in Murfreesboro, followed by, finally, another "home of our own" in Nashville.

During all these years, our daughter was also growing up as a small nomad (nomadette?). She changed schools, as well as residences, every year until fifth grade. She says it's what has made her so outgoing, making friends easily. She had no other choice.

I don't know what got me off on this nomad tangent. I started out telling about my Sunday morning maintenance emergency. At 6:00 a.m., I was calling the maintenance hot line because of a water leak. Oh yes, I remember! It's why I rent an apartment, instead of owning my own condo or house. I truly hate to have to deal with home maintenance and yard work. So for me, those blessed maintenance people are worth their weight in gold. Thanks, guys!

(Hard as it is to admit, the nomadic lifestyle didn't end for me with the move to Nashville. Maybe sometime I'll tell "the rest of the story.")