Starter homes or finishing homes?

I have been busy researching homes for our upcoming move. Since "Buying and Selling" on HGTV is filmed in the Austin area, where we plan on settling, I have been watching the show to get a feel for the market.

Unfortunately, the show can be quite insulting. Seeing people whine because their children's futures will be ruined if they can't get into the $550K home.

I did see the sort of home I was looking for on the show-- the sort of home that the sellers were leaving for greener lawns. Apparently, the sort of home that I've grown up in, that I think of as a "regular house," is called a "starter home".

It's the kind of home that my grandparents lived in, the kind my mom lives in, and the kind I've always lived in. I guess it's the residential equivalent of first grade!

Well, we are looking for the perfect starter home to finish in!

Moving to Texas!

Home... Finally. I left my teenhood home in Boerne when I moved off to college in 1993. Since then, i've been in a variety of temporary housing, from dorms to apartments, from barracks to tents to military family housing.

Now, as my husband gets ready to retire from the army, I grow increasingly excited about finding the perfect permanent home. It seems that I go from Zillow to Trulia to Realtor.com throughout the day, trying not to fall in love with a "perfect" home in a bad neighborhood, or to get attached to a too-good-to-be-true deal that is sold within days.

I also have the urge, after spending twenty years traveling and pursuing excitement, to settle back in to small town life. My big fear is that of a transplant trying to spread roots in an established garden.

Trying...To... Type...

Like so many people I meet, I am full of ideas. Some of them are pretty silly, such as "What if everyone was born knowing the date of their death?" or "I wonder if Spock would like waffles?" But still, I am stuck with them swirling around in my brain.

For some reason, the accumulation of ideas accelerates when accompanied by shower water. Why is it that getting in the shower takes me to some other zone where ideas swim around me? It makes getting ready for ANYTHING very complicated, as I can't just soap up, rinse, and get out. No, I have to imagine what Napoleon would say if he was forced to listen to rap music, or what would happen if we were all living in an alternate universe and dreaming up this one. Suddenly, the water is getting cold, and the alternate universe curls down the drain with all the stubby leg hairs.

Sometimes I manage to scratch out a haiku or something, and wonder if I am a writer.

I'm not really a writer.

I'm a thinker. I think way too much-- and I am sure someone out there probably nods and says, "Yes, that is me to a T. I think way too much. Someone make my brain shut up, please!" Of course, that is assuming that someone stumbles across these words. Maybe they will just sink into the great cesspool of cyberspace.

This is my meager attempt to write. I can't keep a proper journal, as my crappy hands don't agree to holding a pen or pencil for long. I am going to try to tame some of these thoughts and memories and see if there is a way to add to the Great Conversation.

That is, if everyone else hasn't adjourned to some pub and plugged their ears.