The Decision

 

            Our decision to sell our Atlanta loft in the Stacks and move back to Michigan is a difficult one. (Note that I say “is” rather than “was,” as the process is raw and new.) We have imagined a number of different scenarios, most of them starting with “What if . . .?”

 

            There is a lot to like about where we live in Atlanta: the neighbors we have met, the striking architecture of the Stacks and, especially, of the unit where we live – and it would be even better if we went ahead with the kitchen and bathroom remodeling that Kim has been planning for weeks. We have also, thanks to Genne´, discovered some really cool places not too far from here – the Beltline, for one, with its wide sidewalk lined with restaurants, bars, and interesting people cruising by on skates, scooters, bikes, or on foot. And today we visited a great farmer’s market, open Saturdays year-round. My new friend John, a long-time resident here, shows me a new lunch place just about every week. And as we’ve said before, our Cabbagetown neighborhood just has a good vibe.

 

            But still, there are some strong negatives for us. One of the main ones is the traffic. No accidents yet, and the problem might be my 81-year-old brain navigating unfamiliar streets, but I am afraid I might feel stranded in our home, unable to get out for simple shopping – though I am confident about access to groceries.

 

            Another negative is the heat. True, we have not yet experienced it, but Atlanta summers are, from all reports, still a concern – and that might make us hole up with our air conditioning.

 

            A third major negative is the missing connection with the natural world. Out our living room windows – the only ones we have – we see traffic, which includes quite a few ambulances and fire trucks. Yes, a tree outside our windows is about to put out its spring leaves, and we see the occasional robins, but it’s not at all like what we saw daily at the Bark House. Kim spends time looking at her bird and butterfly photos on her computer, as we are unable to see them in person.

 

            And a fourth negative is the lack of space in our condo. Kim has no room to do her artwork – and she is an artist at heart. There is no room for her collections. We have known for a couple of months that this cannot be our one and only home, though if either one of us dies first the other might possibly live here. But there is simply no storage here, and we have a house full of stuff in the Bark House on Torch Lake.

 

            With both the Bark House and our Stacks condo on the market, we have a number of “What if . . .?” plans:

 

PLAN A: Keep the condo here and the Bark House and become snow birds, driving back and forth. The problem is that it’s a 1,000 mile drive, and though family members and friends have offered to drive us, it’s still a long ride, and we’d still have to deal with the Atlanta problems.

 

PLAN B: Sell the condo, move back to the Bark House, and buy a condo in Traverse City where we would live in the winter and rent out in the summer. We have been looking hard at the Commons – the former mental institution where we lived for a couple of years while building the Bark House. So far, we have not seen one that would work, but we will have to look in person.

 

PLAN C: Sell both the condo and the Bark House and find another house or condo, probably in Michigan, that will architecturally interesting and livable, and with room for our furniture and our stuff. We’ve been looking for over a year, including in North Carolina and Ann Arbor among other places, and we have yet to come up with one that works for us. We have made the sale of our house contingent on our finding a suitable place to live, which is a lot like taking it off the market.

 

PLAN D: Sell the condo, move back to the Bark House, find the help we need, and just live there. The house works for us in so many ways. Help is hard to find – for what we need both inside and outside the house – but the money we get from selling the condo will allow us to pay what is needed.

 

            Of course, all of these plans make it sound like selling the house or condo are decisions we make, but of course, buyers are required, and that might be out of our control.

 

            Thinking, planning and (for me) worrying about all of the above, each attached to a “What if . . . ?”, has led to an increase in my level of stress. It’s hard to make a decision with so many unknowns at play, and moving itself, as we know, brings its own dose of stress. I find that having a to-do-list helps, and it helps knowing that Genne´ will be here looking after our condo while we are in Michigan. We (Kim) are starting to pack – mainly small stuff and essentials for the car. We’ll need a mover if and when the condo sells, and if it doesn’t, we may drive down here for the winter.

 

            Who knows?