There was a big blowout at the house this weekend. I could even hear it from my spot all the way outside in the driveway. From the mumbles of the Girl this morning, I think it had something to do with the Sister taking the last avocado. Yeah, real earth shattering, I know. The strain of living all together seems to be taking its toll.
The Girl and I moved from our not so comfortable but not so bad digs in South Philly (Graduate Hospital area, for those in the know) back to South Jersey to live with the Mom and Sister, and for a little while the Brother - although that's another story for another time, in the house that had been turned into a business for 25 years and which they were going to turn back into a home. Long story short, things didn't turn out exactly as they had planned. Things got delayed, and then costs went up and before they knew it, they were stuck in this halfway house (for surely, that's how it feels) with barely any of the rehab done and very little savings left to keep things moving.
That was three years ago. The kitchen is still the original 30+ year old kitchen complete with crumbling flooring. The bathrooms are also all still original. Many of the walls are still riddled with staples and pin holes from the business. The building is on septic. They had to have a gas line brought in. It's a constant battle to keep the woods from encroaching too much in the back, and the deer, groundhogs and hawks have decided we have the most delectable bushes and wildlife, respectively.
The three of them are at their wits end, and this weekend was the blowout. The Sister wants out, and truth be told, so does the Girl. The Mom can't quite see past the four bedroom, two-story colonial she's lived in most of her life in one form or another to something smaller, perhaps apartment-like. Everyone's stressed, and everyone feels trapped. No one can figure out a solution. Do they sell? In this market, with the house as is? Do they stay and keep playing musical money? Where's the light at the end of the tunnel?
