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I spent a week at the beach. A friend of mine invited me to use her family beach house - overlooking the ocean. It was bliss.
I sat on the swing on the deck overlooking the water and just watched the waves.
I swam in the sea and basked in the sun while digging my feet in the sand.
On day two I ran down the street after a real estate guy and asked if he knew any houses to rent. He directed me to a wee cottage across the road from the sea. It is less than a year old, only two bedrooms and a deck to die for. That night he picked me up and took me through the house. I loved it.
Day three I went back to the house and wondered if I dare be so bold. Could I really leave my house and just move to the beach?
Day four found me texting the guy who was house-sitting for me asking if he would rent my place.
Day five I agreed to move to the beach!
I am now in the process of packing. I am actually moving. I can't quite believe it. I have lived in my house for 16 years. I am leaving one of my cats, Moo, here and the stray dog that visits a few times a week will still need to be fed. My tenant is happy to do this on my behalf.
And you know what else?
I am going to see if I can find real work. I don't need much. It may be that I have to 'work work' until then but that's OK - it will be once a month. I go zoom up on a Friday and back again early Saturday morning - it won't kill me. I can forget about it by the time I get home.
The beach is beautiful - I was able to sunbathe naked without a soul to the left or right of me. It is a very small community with only one cafe, one pub, a fire station. That's about it! Only 2000 people and me.
I am so excited and so terrified all at once. I think this is the beginning of something special.
It feels right.
Anyone else dived right in to a new life - did it work out alright?
Whirlwind 16:11:06 03/18/2010