Curious Tidbits

© 2012 Tami Stewart Contact Me

Hoping & Dreaming

Contemplating a mortgage at 48 feels much different then contemplating a mortgage at 38. Do I really think signing a 30-year fixed rate mortgage is a good idea? I mean if I attend to the schedule outlined by the mortgage lender, designed to maximize their profit, I will be 78 by the time the damn thing disappears. But what other options are available? Where do I begin?
I like this house idea, this thought of creating a home of my own. How thrilling that I can even hopefully contemplate this notion. It is not my own hard work that funds this dream, although I do not deny that I work hard, many others do too and the idea of home ownership is the stuff of cotton candy fantasy for many. Me, I have grandparents and parents that work hard and the trickle down effect is in play. I think of my grandparents and wonder what they would think of this yachty thing I do? My maternal grandfather left school in 6
th grade built a successful company, worked hard, what would he think of my life at sea? My maternal grandmother, again a person who lived through the Depression picked cotton with her mother. The land was her family’s but when people yachting whine about how hard they work I goose chortle, you ain’t pickin’ cotton baby.
I wonder if my commitment to working hard can be traced to genetics? Nature/Nuture. Such a quandary.
Today, I did decide that purchasing a home is an excellent option for a person like me who yearns for private safe space away from all things painful. Oh wait, much of that I carry with me. Never mind that at least I can cry and scream in privacy. And paint the walls the color of my choice. I see yellow and periwinkle.
But I must continue to wait and plan and hope as buying a home at 48 is a wholly different sort of dream. Please no debt okay, all right aside from them obligatory 30 year or perhaps 15 ball and chain? But the rest of it, no debt as it robs freedom, joy, no debt – scary monsters. Save more, just a bit.
So for now I will stay on my 7 million dollar conveyance plus work abode plus sleeping area with all its bells and whistles. Poor poor pitiful me with all my hopes and dreams, oh wait, isn’t anticipation half the pleasure of all things.
Yes, the dreaming, the hoping, the fantasy – delightful!