made my confession, “I want to live close to this bakery,” I whispered. Could it be possible? I thought. My husband and I were empty nesters and we were in the process of downsizing. A little voice inside murmured, ‘what if we found an apartment to rent in a two-family house close-by?’ We had already taken an educated gamble by buying our retirement home on Cape Cod while the prices were plummeting there. What if we sold the McMansion in CT and were able to rent reasonably in West Hartford while we worked our way towards retirement? Normally that would not be risky business but in today’s market it really was a gamble. The same wave that brought crashing prices to the Cape was about to swallow us up whole. Could we swing it financially and satisfy one of our long lost dreams to live in this charming little city? On my next visit to my new favorite bakery, I quietly muttered to the clerk: “I want to live close to this bakery.” She smiled politely but said nothing. What possessed me to do that? Everyday I became seemingly consumed with the daunting task of fengshuing, painting and staging our oversized colonial for selling. What a full-time production for just two
“Just say it out loud and offer it up to the universe....Softly, so no one in the bakery could hear, I made my confession, “
people. And yet, this bakery seemed like a magnet drawing me closer to West Hartford with each visit. Too embarrassed to explain, I just ran out. The tide was now turning on us, as we, the buyers, became the sellers. We prepared ourselves for a long, possible two year battle in trying to sell. Surprisingly, in June, the perfect wave came in. The weather Gods were with us! The mercury topped 90 degrees, and the turquoise of our built-in pool worked its magic. By Father’s Day we had a solid contract after our home had only been listed for a few weeks. But the devil is in the details. The fine print specified: ‘closing to take place within four weeks.’ The buyer wanted to spend their summer by our pool. The pressure was on to find a home that met all of our needs and that of Clancy, our golden doodle…allowing us to move in in less than thirty days. The hunt was on. So, at the next bakery run, I decided to be bold. I uttered my request loudly, for all to hear: “I WANT TO LIVE IN WEST HARTFORD CLOSE TO A LITTLE SOMETHING BAKERY!” I yelled. I exited quickly, enveloped by silence. To help the dream along, we found a realtor specializing in West Hartford rentals, who quickly showed us a couple of properties that were just a five minute walk away. Location, location, location isn’t all it is cracked up to be when there is peeling paint or wobbly stairs. We consulted Google maps to help triangulate how close to the center we could afford to live. We drove street-by-street searching for rental signs for the perfect
I want to live close to this bakery,” I whispered. 46
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two family charmer, like the ones our grandparents had lived in. Our timing was off. Our goals seemed as aligned as shooting stars in the summer sky. Nothing opened up. On the hottest day of the year last July, when everyone was warned to stay hydrated for fear of heat stroke, we had to pack up our suburban home. Moving close-by in Condocity to a small apartment in safe suburbia felt more like defeat than victory. Friends congratulated us on the miraculous sale of our home in a single season but somehow it all tasted bittersweet. We fed our cravings for a more bustling city-like atmosphere by making weekly visits to West Hartford for dinner with friends and of course a run to “our” bakery. Fall brought me back to my classroom with the strongest allergy attacks ever. In September the doctor called to confirm my worst fears. I was severely allergic to the invisible pet dander in the new apartment. The next day, I opened an email from our agent that would change my life forever. There was a listing so good that I called my husband before my students had even left my class. Within an hour we did a quick drive- by and made sure we were the first applicants to see it the next day. “I want to live close to my bakery” I screamed to the universe, as we drove by it the next morning. The charming Victorian duplex was just a half-mile away. It was built in 1890 but had been restored and updated. It had not one but two floors and a front and back porch. The master bedroom was the largest I had ever seen with five oversized windows facing east. It was also within walking distance of a church, the library and many of the best restaurants in West Hartford. It had that feeling of home from the moment we saw it! By October our dream of living in West Hartford, and moving back to the city became the final piece of our puzzling lives. Now we are able to enjoy the wonderful outdoors of Cape Cod and the bustling sweet life of our favorite little city, West Hartford. Thanks to a coupon and a cupcake and a little something from the universe, we found the perfect place to settle into our new role as grandparents and soon-to-be retirees. Back to basics and loving it! n