My Old Wyoming Home

I don't think about the old house much.

Which is kind of odd, because it once meant so much to me. Last week, when David and I went to Ten Thousand Waves to celebrate our anniversary by soaking in a private tub, he asked me if I thought the new people were using the hot tub much.

I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

"Our hot tub?" he says. "The people who bought our house -- do you think they use the hot tub?"

Ohhhh. The hot tub we used to sit in pretty much every night for five years. In the house we bought for love. For jts beauty and the sunlight. I just hadn't thought about it. "They're from California and it's been a cold winter -- I hope they're using it!"

And then I started thinking more about how they were doing. If they figured out how to set up the pond heater so the koi in the pond will overwinter. The upstairs gets cold when it's really chilly -- I should have left a note telling them of my trick of closing the downstairs heating vents and turning on the upstairs ceiling fan and heating from the top down on those super-frosty days.

Last night I dreamed that we snuck into the old house. The person we were with -- maybe a real estate agent? -- knew they were out of town. So we went in to look around and all the windows were shaded so no light came in! Enraged, I went around opening shades and doors. I heard voices behind one door and there was a woman inside, reading to a little girl who was sick.

Oops.

So I fled. Fortunately she didn't see me. (How she couldn't when I opened the door to the bedroom is silly, but that's the great thing about dreams.)

Anyway, I think I'm connecting with the timing. It was one year ago now that we put our house on the market. I started to say good-bye then. I wasn't sure of the date until I checked this blog post. Amazing to me how our subconscious notes and commemorates anniversaries, even if we consciously don't.

Coincidentally, I wrote about that house (okay, that part isn't a coinicidence - I write about every damn thing, like cats and New Mexico weather) and the essay appeared in Going Green.
Recently the Wyoming Library Roundup published an article on the anthology and they used a picture of our old house. (Look at page 9 - I can't seem to get it to bookmark.)

So now it's immortalized the way I liked it, for all to see. Which is a lovely by-product of writing. It doesn't really matter if they use the hot tub, if the fish survive the winter or if they close the shades.

It's their house now. Mine is in the book.