Across from Seattle are several peninsulas that have historically remained connected to the city by a car ferry system. Bainbridge Island is, from outer appearances an affluent vacation spot, and so you would think we couldn’t afford here any better than Seattle. Thankfully however, prices haven’t quite caught up over here and we’ve landed a rather sweet rental for the year. We’d like to buy, and soon, because we think the secret will get out and good schools, country fresh air and a romantic ferry ride to city work will lure all those other families suffering in Seattle’s epic rise. We shall see.  For now though, we have rented a vacation property, that has us feeling like we’re playing rich, and also fearing this next year’s hunt for the perfect (and probably shabby) country home (we will be evicted August 1 of next year).

 Landing feels good.  As nomadic as we have been these last few months, and as panic-stricken as I was to move to another island (which was absolutely not a good idea in my opinion), being down, boxes coming undone is good.  That said it took only one week for me to slip back into kids, drive, dishes, routine.  Truly, I see routine sliding in under the doors and around the crown molding.

We’ve ventured out a little and mostly this place does seem good. Quaint, but good.  The only thing standing between Seattle center and I is an $8 ferry ride and my kids school schedules. This will no doubt need to be looked at seriously, so that this one horse town and I don’t meet head-on in Crazyville.

  I’ve removed kayaking from my 13 Adventures because it seemed too easy. I kept “take art classes” because I immediately panicked that there may not be easy ones to take within my schedule, or they would cost to much, or I wouldn’t be good enough…you get the picture. Art classes are in because they obviously scare me.