Returning to Location Casualties
A.M.S. (who no longer blogs… sniff) and I share a love of tiny houses, yurts, and homes that look like this. I’ve been trying to convince Josh that we need a tiny house at the beach. He is equally enamoured with tiny houses, less so ones placed on land that may be underwater in a few years, and we sometimes watch Tiny House Nation, talking about our own future tiny house.
Last week, we were watching a Halloween-themed episode when the host mentioned that the community of rentable tiny houses was located in my home state. Are you kidding me? Would A.M.S. come up to visit so we could squee? I grabbed Josh’s hand and gasped, “Oh my G-d, we need to drive out there now!”
And then I Googled it.
And you know where it was? My location casualty.
I know I wrote about possibly returning to this area back in 2011, mostly to show the kids Fallingwater, but we haven’t done it yet. I want to in the sense that I want to show them Fallingwater, but I really don’t want to go back to that area. It’s a shame because it’s so close, and yet the idea of going fills me with dread, even after this much time has passed. Isn’t that ridiculous? Except that if it’s possible to live your life avoiding an area, it’s really hard to talk yourself into going there for fun. Because… you know… it isn’t fun to be there.
And yet… maybe the siren song of the tiny house will be the thing that pushes me over the edge?
Are there places you never want to return to?