Day 6 of my NaBloPoMo home posts, and still going strong! Yeah, I know I’ve got 24 more days to go, but hey, it’s a start.

For those of you who haven’t been reading regularly, I’m writing about the various places I’ve called home over the years to start out (and in effect writing a highly condensed version of my life story in the process). Here are the previous posts in chronological order if you care to catch up:

• I Must Be Crazy
• The Early Years
• My Bachelorette Pad
• Into the Mountains
• Living With the Parents the Second Time Around

So now I’m at the point where my life completely changed. I was living with my parents again, and was trying to pick up the pieces of my life and make a fresh start. I befriended a guy who lived in the town where I was working, and started spending a whole lot of time with him. Eventually we kissed, and before I knew it we were moving in together, getting married, and expecting a little one. All of this actually took place over the course of about a year, but it seemed much shorter than that. At any rate, that guy turned out to be Hubby.

Going back to the home theme, our first place was a real dump. It was a tiny trailer at the top of a steep hill, with lots of very strange neighbors. We lived right next to our landladies, and they kept their goats in our yard. (At least we didn’t have to buy a lawnmower, because we certainly couldn’t afford it then.) You could look out the window across the fence and see huge rats running back and forth from a barn to a pond. Yuck.

As cruddy as that place was, I was happy to be there. I can’t say that the year we lived there was a bed of roses, but there was lots of love in that little place. Pumpkin arrived, and things were that much sweeter.

We eventually found a place without critters included that we could afford, and we moved. But that’s a story for another post.