At long last the search is over. We signed the lease on a little house in Santa Monica yesterday.
It’s pretty perfect. In a great neighborhood with wonderful parks and schools, biking distance to the beach and walkable coffee shops and restaurants. It’s a two bedroom with hardwood floors and a fireplace and an office. (An office! I haven’t had a desk since Vera was 6 months old!)
The house has belonged to the landlord’s family since it was built, her grandmother moving into it when she came here from Europe. Our landlord told us yesterday that back then, there was actually nothing around it, no other houses, and even nothing between it and the beach.
We move in September 1st, which seems both soon and far away. We’re both ready to leave Topanga, especially after Lincoln’s death last week. The whole area up here has taken on a sad, kind of haunted quality, and we’re more ready than ever to create our own little home in Los Angeles. I can’t wait to see our stuff again, and to put Vera’s room together.
We’re going to get bikes and we’re going to walk to the park and we’re going sleep in bedrooms underneath swaying palm trees and flowering hibiscus flowers and we’re going to join the ranks of California pioneers who made their way here and created families and roots and followed their dreams, no matter how unlikely.