Moving on

We've had lousy luck with housing during this first year-and-a-half in our southern California community.

Home #1: The three-story condo just off the main drag and footsteps from the beach. It had the dreamy kitchen:



Then the owners decided to return to their dreamy kitchen earlier than expected. They gave us the boot and one month after little H's birth, we moved again.

That led us to...

Home #2: Another three-story condo by the other beach. It had this nifty loft space:



Six months later (just four weeks ago, now) we returned from vacation to an eviction notice.

The property had been foreclosed and sold at auction to a couple of investors who decided to flip the property for profit. They gave us 60 days and a wad of cash to get out without complaining.

So last week we moved. Again. Movers came Saturday. We mostly unpacked and N left for two weeks in Asia the next day.

Here we are...

Home #3: Historic Spanish bungalow on the base:



I never imagined we'd live on base--ever--but the summer sunset and lush landscaping actually make the air strip in the front yard look kind of picturesque, don't you think?



The house is cute, extremely stable (as in no sketchy landlords, foreclosure threats or sudden evictions) and comes with something we haven't had access to since we lived in Florida:

A yard!



For getting soaked...



Exercising...



Hanging around...



And playing ball.



The indoor space also has some seemingly suitable spots for the usual...








Now I have to convince myself that it's OK to start loving yet another home.

We have to hurry up and hang the pictures, find great hide-n-seek locales, make friends with the neighbors and fall in love with our home, because in another year the Navy has us scheduled for .... another move.

I'm not going to worry about that next tour, though. I'm confident God has the perfect home (or three) picked out for us when we get there, too.