I miss my old house.  It was small and had been remodeled with poor workmanship, but it was magical.  Up on a hill.  Private and secluded. Views of the open sky and the houses below.  I could watch the sunset every night.  And on a good clear day, see the sparkle of sunlight hitting the ocean.

It had a huge palm tree that shaded me from the LA heat and freaked me out every time we had a windstorm.  Late afternoons brought a breeze that would flow through the whole house.

Skunks made their way through the yard at dusk.  Raccoons fought on my roof.  Cats lounged wherever they wanted.  I even spotted a possum once.

And the neighbors were great.  A mix of LA artists.

I miss that place.  It had everything.  Everything but ample space for a family, garage, or a good school district.

So I eventually packed it up and found a place with the new things I needed.  But at one time, it had everything I needed. It was my peaceful hideaway.  And I miss it often.

Someday I will find a place that has all of the old and new things mixed together.  A view AND a good school district.  Big palm tree that shades me AND a garage.

Until then, I can only reminisce. I can’t live there anymore. But I can remember what it felt like to be there.